


Miroslav Klose and the Fate of the Dragon

by tempered_rose



Series: Realm Verse [1]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Comfort/Angst, Dark Magic, Dragons, Emotions, Established Relationship, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Everyone Is Gay, Everything Hurts, Fantasy, Feels, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied Slash, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Mythology - Freeform, Non-Graphic Violence, Norwegian Mythology & Folklore, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Mythology, Pre-Quest, Quests, Violence, dragon - Freeform, kingdom - Freeform, various pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 55,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2163846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempered_rose/pseuds/tempered_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miroslav is given a quest by King Jürgen to find out why the dragon in the west has decided to wake from its slumber and start attacking innocent villagers. Along with him travels six men who possess the skills needed to save the land from the dragon. If facing a fire-breathing nightmare wasn't bad enough, there's also a traitor in their midst...</p><p>Magical!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elizaberglund](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaberglund/gifts).



> I'm back with another Miroslav AU. I know, I have issues. Eliza, my dear, darling Eliza, assisted with the idea of this fic that I morphed into this thing. If I'm guessing right there's going to be about 24 chapters (maybe more, maybe a few less) so please sit back and enjoy the ride. As always: comments and concrit are welcome, loved, and adored.
> 
>  

Once, long ago, there was a kingdom in a far northern land. It wasn’t a large kingdom by today’s standards, but it was big enough to house many faithful subjects. It was ruled in one city with a castle made of stone, from the castle stretched miles and miles of fields where farmers tended the crops to provide food for everyone. Beyond those fields, there was a forest full of so many colors of green that it would be impossible to find them all. And beyond those forests, there were the mountains. All of them reached so high into the sky that they became snow-capped before their peaks were lost to the clouds.

It was a beautiful place and peace ruled it for many years. The king was known to all as Jürgen the Kind because he, like his most trusted advisor, Miroslav the Wizard, was a peace-making person. Neither of them liked to fight. Neither liked to be involved in battle. They both tried to find a diplomatic, peaceful way out of such trouble. If, however, such a path would not or could not be found, well. Miroslav _was_ a wizard after all…

Miroslav wasn’t the only advisor the king had. His faithful companion and life-long friend, Joachim was his day-to-day advisor because he was always around the king. Where the King went, Joachim was sure to follow.

Such as it was the day that Miroslav returned to the castle.

The King stood at the wall of the castle, overlooking the city surrounded by its strong walls. Joachim was at his side, doing just as his king was, when they saw Miroslav coming. He arrived always the same way: walking as if he were a peasant, with a thick brown cloak over his shoulder and a large hat to shield his face from the sun. He did not carry a staff to assist him with walking, but a sword could be seen at his belt, though it was rarely used.

Smiling when he saw him, Jürgen turned from the wall and re-entered the castle. Joachim was hot on his heels. By the time they arrived at the throne room, Miroslav had been shown in and was waiting on them. He was looking at the map that had been carved into the floor of the castle, looking at the lands that Jürgen called his own.

“My friend, you are welcome here!” Jürgen said with a large smile and greeted Miroslav with a hug.

Miroslav smiled a little and returned the king’s hug politely. “Thank you, dear friend. I bring news.”

Jürgen nodded and beckoned the wizard further into the throne room. Joachim stayed off to the side, watching the pair of them, hands folded discreetly behind his back. Jürgen sat on the throne and watched Miroslav patiently, waiting for the wise one to speak.

“A great beast has come to live in the mountains in the west.” Miroslav started as he moved over the map on the floor. He came to stop near one of the highest, most impenetrable sections of the range of mountains. “Just about here.”

“A beast?” Jürgen asked, watching Miroslav. “What sort?”

Miroslav met the king’s eyes. “A dragon.”

The king remained quiet for a few moments, silently staring at Miroslav because he was in great need of a few moments’ to collect his composure to believe that the wizard actually had spoken and stated what he had.

“Dragons have not been since the Iron Age.” Joachim spoke before the king could collect his voice. Miroslav turned his attention to the King’s number two and addressed him.

“I have seen the creature with my own eyes. It is a fire-breather of a large kind. Healthy, strong.”

“Can it be defeated?” Jürgen asked at last, looking at Miroslav.

“I suppose it could be done, sire, if that is what you wish.”

Joachim spoke at once. “Then it must be done. We will amass the army and go after this foul beast to protect our lands!”

Jürgen was nodding his head in agreement before he looked at Miroslav. “You caution against this action?”

Miroslav nodded. “I do, sire. I think it would be extremely unwise to hunt this dragon, at least right now.”

“Why the need for a delay? We could kill it before it harms any of our people.” Joachim replied, watching the wizard.

“The dragon is young, it lives in a cave in the tallest of the mountains. It will likely hibernate for decades before it awakens. By then, it could decide to move on. The dragon, as yet, has harmed no one.” Miroslav stated, looking only at the king as they shared the same thought. If the dragon hadn’t killed anyone or harmed anything, then it would be murder of a living creature for the sport of it. They were both opposed to such a thing.

“Very well then.” Jürgen stated, as he looked to the map. “But we will monitor the dragon. Should his demeanor change and he begins to grow stronger and more harmful, we will have to act, Miroslav.”

“Of course, your Majesty. I expect nothing less.” Miroslav bowed slightly, a gesture of respect between the two because unlike all other subjects, he did not have to lower his eyes from the King’s.

Jürgen smiled from his throne. “Rest here a while, old friend. My sister is due with her babe soon and our kingdom may have an heir at last.”

Miroslav smiled as he accepted the king’s generous invitation. He felt much relieved that the dragon would stay untouched in the mountains where, he hoped, it would wake one day from its sleep and move on to the lands beyond their country’s boarders.


	2. The Dragon Wakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So begins our quest... More soon! Comments are love, concrit is welcome. :)

**_Twenty Years Later…_ **

Avenore was a small village at the base of the mountains. It was so small it didn’t dare even make a speck on the map of the kingdom. It was a collection of huts, perhaps four or five, where as many families lived in the quiet lush hills just before the forests gave way to the rocky slopes of the mountains. In the valley beneath the village, the people farmed their crops. It was a simple, hard-working life but the people were happy.

The people lived in peace there. Few outsiders came to upset their routines and no one ever left. It was nice, quiet.

Until the day the dragon awoke.

\--

Jürgen sat on the throne, a look on his face that reflected great concern and worry over something. It was a change from the usual look of happiness that he wore proudly like a great lion in the throes of power. Joachim watched from his usual reserved distance until it became too much.

“What is it, Jürgen? You are out of sorts today and I don’t know why.” The concern in his voice for his friend, his king, was very evident. It was shown even more when he knelt next to the chair that Jürgen had been in for hours, staring out the window to the fields and the forests beyond.

Jürgen shook his head and he looked at his friend. His troubled eyes met the compassionate sight awaiting him in Joachim’s face. He lowered his hand from where it had been supporting his head as he’d leaned against the window.

“I feel something has changed, but I am not quite sure what. I have sent for Miroslav to explain this to me. Something isn’t… _right_ with the kingdom.”

Joachim frowned. “I have sensed a change also. Perhaps the seasons’ change is coming early this year? We could use the rain…”

Jürgen shook his head. “No. It’s not just the seasons changing. This is more…unsettling than that.”

The king and his most trusted advisor shared a look and Joachim nodded before rising again. He rested his hand on Jürgen’s shoulder and gave a slight squeeze.

“Come, let us ease your mind until Miroslav arrives and can tell us otherwise of what troubles the land. I’ve heard young Thomas has been practicing his dueling and is most eager to show it off. Who better to perform for than the King, his uncle?” Joachim smiled a little, earning a slight twitch of the lips from Jürgen for his efforts.

“You think my nephew can concentrate long enough to win a joust? Go on then, let’s see it.” Jürgen rose from the chair, secretly grateful for the distraction from his troubled thoughts.

He and Joachim continued down the hallway towards the courtyard of the castle. As he went, he greeted his subjects with a courteous nod and stopped for a moment’s chit-chat if he felt inclined or saw a happy face. Joachim stayed patiently by his side and even encouraged others to speak to the king. By the time they had reached the courtyard, almost an hour had passed since they set off for it.

Once they arrived in the courtyard, Jürgen had to take a moment to let his eyes adjust to the brightness of the sunlight that greeted him. Once he had, he stepped out confidently into the courtyard. He could see his nephew dueling with another boy, a bit larger than his nephew, and it appeared to be a fair bout. Thomas was holding his own against the more muscular, bigger blond, but it was only just.

The two boys became aware of the King’s presence and they ceased the duel. Thomas removed his helmet and smiled at his uncle before bowing, an action that the other boy reflected. Jürgen smiled as he approached.

“A great match, Thomas. Who is your companion?” Jürgen asked, looking over the boy, who blushed at the scrutiny.

“Mr. Manuel Neuer, sire.” He stammered out, blush still in place.

“Manu is one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom, Uncle.” Thomas replied, slapping his friend on the back and gave a bright smile. “And my friend.”

Jürgen nodded and looked over Manuel before turning back to Thomas. “I was wondering if you’d care to duel for Joachim and myself, but after that show, I think I am satisfied!”

Thomas grinned brightly. “Thank you, uncle.”

“Your Majesty?” The more feminine voice of Thomas’ mother, Princess Klaudia, called across the courtyard. She was a small woman, delicate and soft-spoken in nature. While she appeared demure and capable of hurting nothing at all, she was one of the best wielders of a spellbook in the kingdom. Her magic rivaled that of Miroslav’s should she be inclined to test it. No one had ever pushed her to that point though; no one was that stupid.

“Yes, sister?” Jürgen asked as he turned to face her. He smiled and then it faded when he saw her companion who was lurking in the shadows near the doorway back into the castle.

“Miroslav the Wise is here. He said you summoned him?”

Jürgen nodded. “Thank you, sister. I trust your son and his friend to your more than capable hands.” He then walked towards the shadow to meet Miroslav. Joachim, as always, was right behind him.

“My friend,” Jürgen said once he was in front of Miroslav. “Something troubles me greatly.”

Miroslav nodded. “I know of what you speak, it troubles me also. I know why.”

Jürgen raised his eyebrow and beckoned the wizard into a more sheltered part of the courtyard. They walked underneath the cloisters and there Jürgen turned to face Miroslav once again.

“What is it? What’s happened? Is it as I feared?” For one thing had worried him in twenty years, though sometimes he had pushed it to the back of his mind and told himself to relax. Twenty years and not one spark nor cinder had revealed itself. Perhaps the winged serpent had moved on?

But when Miroslav nodded slowly and his lips pressed together into a tight line, Jürgen knew his luck had run out and that twenty years of peace had ended. 

“The dragon has awoken.” Jürgen whispered and Miroslav nodded. He heard from what seemed like a great distance as Joachim inhaled sharply. The three men looked at one another warily. “Tell me, Miroslav. Tell me what you have seen.”

Miroslav had many magical tricks up his long wizard robe’s sleeves to show someone something. He was a master of divination and a great conjurer. He could turn any reflective surface into a way to present something, but this time he didn’t waste time for theatrics. He spoke plainly, as he knew the king preferred.

“In the mountains, high in the fells and beyond the forest’s edge by several days’ journey, a village was left to smoldering ruin. The dragon has awoken and he destroyed it. It is a fire-breather.”

“Gods! Were there any survivors?” Jürgen asked, wide-eyed.

Miroslav shook his head.

“We must destroy this beast.” Joachim said for the first time in twenty years. “We cannot leave it to ruin our whole country in flame.”

Jürgen appeared to be in thought for a few moments. “No, we don’t have to destroy it if we can get it to leave.”

Miroslav watched his friend and waited for him to arrive at a conclusion.

“If we can convince the dragon to leave our country, then we don’t have to risk hurting or killing it, and it leaves us in peace.”

“And we sent it to destroy another land? That seems hardly fair.” Joachim replied. Jürgen looked torn between his friend’s point and his need to avoid bloodshed.

“I think perhaps the king is right,” Miroslav suggested. “Perhaps the dragon could be reasoned with and sent elsewhere. I have travelled far in my time, I could speak to the other lands beyond our boarders and help them should the dragon decide to land there and nest as it has done here these twenty years.”

Jürgen nodded, looking quite happy that he wouldn’t have to order the death of another living creature.

“Very well, you should lead a party then, lead them to convince the dragon to leave us.” Joachim replied and Jürgen nodded in agreement.

“Me?” Miroslav raised an eyebrow.

“But of course. You know dragons and you know magic, and as you’ve said: You’ve travelled far these many centuries you’ve been alive. Who better to lead a small company of men than yourself?” Jürgen asked and didn’t wait for an answer. “I will have you properly equipped, I promise you, friend.”

Miroslav resisted a sigh and the argument he could’ve given the king. When Jürgen set his mind to something, he saw it through. And if Jürgen had the support of his friend, Joachim, then there would be no doubting the fact that the events as they had suggested would happen. Miroslav wished he had rephrased and avoided this upcoming gathering altogether.

“Very well, as you wish, sire.” Miroslav conceded. “I will find a group of men and we will leave as soon as we are prepared. Do you wish to come along yourself, Jürgen?”

Jürgen nodded the same time Joachim shook his head.

“It is too dangerous, Jürgen.” Joachim said, concern on his face.

“Who would I leave this noble quest to besides my friend? I should go.”

An argument started between them and Miroslav was trying to find a way to intervene politely when a small but strong voice came from behind them.

“Uncle?” It was Thomas, the king’s nephew. He had been eavesdropping.

Jürgen turned to look at him. “Yes?”

Thomas walked over and rested his forearm across his chest and looked Jürgen directly in the eyes. “I pledge myself to whatever quest you need accomplished. I put myself in your place.”

Jürgen looked ready to protest but Joachim nodded.

“A noble gesture. That way it gets the royal seal of approval,” Joachim replied and looked at Jürgen and his expression shifted from concern to agreement. “Besides, it would do the boy good to begin his reputation as someone who would seek a peaceful resolution to conflict, never mind the fact he would be a hero for helping with the dragon.”

Jürgen nodded after a moment before looking to Miroslav. “I leave your selection of the company entirely in your hands, with this one exception. Please take my nephew along as well. He is to be at your side throughout the entire quest.”

Miroslav looked the boy over. He was young, barely tried, and not as good a sorcerer as his mother was. He also was tall, lanky, and he had the reputation for not being serious about things. He would be more trouble than he was worth, Miroslav had a feeling. And yet… And yet there was something, something pure of heart, that Miroslav could sense resting inside of him, also untried. Maybe this would be what the young heir needed. Some real responsibility where the punishment, if they all failed—Gods pray that didn’t happen—would be death.

“Very well.” Thomas smiled once Miroslav had spoken and the wizard felt a weariness in his bones he hadn’t felt for an age. “You are in my service now, and there are things, rules, we will need to discuss.”

Thomas nodded in agreement, appearing like an anxious apprentice. Miroslav shook his head and started out from underneath the cloisters. Jürgen and Joachim looked pleased in their approval and Miroslav resigned himself to the fact that this quest was actually going to happen. After all, _something_ did need to be done about the dragon. And he was the one he would trust to not mess things up.

Very well then, he thought. So it begins.


	3. The Journey Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I'm still hashing out some of the final details before I write them down. Anyway... Here is the next piece. I hope you like it :) More soon (I'm working on it right now, I promise!) Comments are loved <333 And thank you everyone who does comment, I promise I read them!

Miroslav or Miro, as he had ordered Thomas to call him forthwith, and Thomas sat in a pub on the outskirts of town. If one were to take a look at them, they would simply consider Miro to be a middle-aged man with his son, or perhaps another relative or close friend, sitting at a table and drinking mead and ale as if it were a normal occurrence instead of the very first of such an occasion. They would not suspect it was the great and famed wizard and the king’s nephew, his only heir.

“What are we to do now?” Thomas asked, watching Miro from across the small and dirty table. “Who else is to join us?”

Miro raised his eyebrow and looked at his friend’s nephew. “Which question did you prefer I answer first?” Thomas blinked and Miro would’ve chuckled if he didn’t have his mind already full of such questions and fire-breathing dragons.

“First we wait for that swordsman of yours, Neuer. Then we shall have to see who is pure of heart and can stand the trials of joining us. That will be the harder challenge. And secondly, we are to head towards the mountains.”

“Why must it remain as though we do not know one another?” Thomas asked after a moment.

“Sometimes a secret can spare your life.” Miro replied cryptically and Thomas frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

Miro almost sighed in annoyance. “Think, son of the realm. Who would behave normally if they knew they were in the company and presence of people such as we? What secrets would someone tell if they didn’t know the truth in whom they were telling? I am no one, as are you, for the remainder of this venture.”

With the arrogance of knowing he was going to be ruling a kingdom one day, Thomas did not look embarrassed at the rebuke. Instead, a spark of challenge shone in his eyes, but Miroslav ignored it. He had lived for ages, hundreds of years. He had seen many a young prince with a challenge in his eyes. Yet he remained, the princes had not.

Miro softened his tone, but only slightly.

“When the time is right, you will see what I mean. And then you can reveal yourself also.” Thomas nodded once and Miro checked the time from the position of the sun in the sky. “Let us be off. Your friend should be at the rendezvous point by now.”

Thomas and Miro stood and paid for their ale. They left the small pub and walked at a leisurely pace past the other shops on the village square. Miro had insisted they dress as plainly as possible and if they weren’t associated to the king or the royal family at all. So far, all was going well. They continued down across the village green and towards the docks of the river that, to anyone who knew, would flow straight through the valleys and beyond to the sea that was a week’s journey away.

The pair kept going past the docks and the ships there and found Manuel waiting near the gate to the city with a trio of ponies and one fully-grown horse. He was rubbing the nose of one of them and murmuring something softly to her while his eyes kept their gaze on the pony’s. Thomas found it odd. Miro found it sweet, but that was because he knew what was being said.

“You didn’t tell me you spoke the language of the elves, Master Neuer.” Miro replied as he greeted the horse in much the same manner that Manuel was speaking to the pony with.

“You never asked, my lord. I mean Miro.” Manuel corrected quickly, quick enough to avoid Miro’s correcting gaze.

“How is it you know it?” Miro asked as he mounted the horse and Thomas followed suit to one of the ponies.

Manuel shrugged. “My mother. I remember some things from when I was young, before I joined the king’s service.”

Miro regarded the swordsman a moment before he nodded agreement and the three started down the road. Unlike what Thomas expected, they did not head for the gate. Confusion must have shown on his face because Miroslav looked at Thomas.

“We have one more to collect before we leave the capital.” He replied nonchalantly.

“Who?” Thomas asked, forever impatient. He didn’t like not knowing things.

“The master of the guard. Master Reus, of course.”

Well that makes sense, Thomas allowed himself to think. The Master of the Guard was another experienced swordsman, soldier, and fighter. But what Reus had that others did not was experience with not only weaponry, but with creatures as well. He had made a great study of the beasts of this world and that knowledge would come in useful. Especially since they didn’t know what sort of dragon it was, beyond the obvious fact it was a fire-breather.

They stopped at a thatch work house a few streets away from the gate and the docks. Miro cleared his throat loud enough that the occupant of the house seemed to hear it, though Thomas didn’t see how. Miro wasn’t that loud. He was probably as loud as a mouse gliding over a moss-covered hill and that was if he were shouting. Thomas had lost count of how many times as a boy he had been snuck up on by the wizard; something he found particularly unfair, particularly if they were playing hide and seek or some other game.

Walking out of his house with a simple pack slung over his shoulder, the Master of the Guard arrived and stood next to the only unoccupied pony. He bowed his head to Miro first and then to Thomas with a little bit more length in his bow.

“Thank you for bringing me along,” Marco stated as he climbed onto the pony. Excitement dripped from every syllable he uttered. “I look forward to the end of our quest and meeting this dragon.”

“Are you of the opinion we should only talk to it?” Thomas asked as they turned and returned down the road that led to the gate.

Before Marco could reply, Miro cut him off. “If he was not, then he would not be joining us. No one is to harm the beast.”

“Unless he asks for it,” Marco replied, his tone conflicting with what Miro had just said about being there for conversation only. Miro gave him a warning look but they arrived at the gate before another word was said. The guards of the gate acknowledged Marco’s presence by straightening under his scrutiny and they passed without comment.

“How do you know it’s a he?” Thomas asked as the troop continued down the road, now past the gate and headed down the Forest Road.

Marco paused before scowling at Manuel who chuckled at his amusement. Miro ignored their banter as he led the way down the road towards the trees of the forest. He was still opposed to the idea of leading a company of men to speak to the dragon. It could be done in a few days if he went alone. He would have to ride hard and then climb up the cliff faces of the Western Mountains, but he could do it. Gods knew he had done much worse in his time. It could be an errand, not a quest. And yet… Miro sighed. Yet here he was, leading three men and undoubtedly more by the time the journey had ended to face a dragon.

He should really consult the tea leaves more often. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so surprised at the workings of fate and the situations he found himself in.

\---

It really wasn’t _his_ fault per se… How was he to know the stupid trolls of Horgoroth would want more gold to release him, his crew, and his ship than what they had previously agreed upon?

This defense hadn’t gone so well over in his mind, never mind the owner on paper of the ship that he had just lost. If he were honest with himself, something he tried rarely to be, he was lucky to be alive. That couldn’t quite be said the same of his crew and the ship that had served him well. Stupid trolls.

He leaned against the wall of the tavern he was in. His dark eyes kept a look around the group of patrons that were inside, alert for any threats. He was a wanted man, after all. Dismissing the thought of trolls and lost ships from his mind, he noticed a curious pair across the pub. They didn’t seem to fit together very well; they both looked uncomfortable. He paused when he studied the younger of the two. The boy looked familiar.

But of course. The King’s heir.

He watched both of them rise and leave, paying for their drinks as they went. He waited a few moments before he stood and slipped out, not parting with any coin for his own drink as he left after them. What was the nephew of the king doing outside the castle and in a lowly place such as the ‘Screaming Mermaid’ anyway?

He was curious, and he would find out.

\---

The sun kissed the feathery tops of the wheat crop as it began to set. From horizon to horizon, as far as you could see, the golden color of the field stretched. It had always been like this, every year since they had been born and long since they would die. It was just something to be accepted. The fields would always have wheat, the sky would always be blue on a summer’s day, the earth would smell fresh after a rainstorm, and they would always be friends. Just something else to be natural and accepted.

Lukas lay on his right, his hand in Bastian’s, and they made shapes in the clouds as they looked at the sky above. Soon they would have to start back towards the cluster of stone cottages where they lived. It would be time for dinner, but it would be growing cold by the time they arrived. Neither of them would leave this place until the sun had dipped beneath the hills of the west and dusk was growing gray. The colors of the day would fade, the sound of the crickets would grow louder, and then and only then, would they start back to the cottages.

Summer was closing and the autumn was coming. Another year was nearing the end and they would both age the following spring.

Lukas’ hand squeezed his own before it brought their joined hands to rest on his chest. Bastian let his hand rest over Lukas’ heart and he smiled. He had found his One Love, the only one he would ever need or love in his life, he knew it to be true.

“That one is a turtle.” Lukas pointed to a cloud in the sky, the sun causing Lukas’ turtle to have a golden shell and a face made of the lightest purple.

“How do you know what a turtle looks like?” Bastian asked, knowing neither of them had actually seen one.

“It seems to be what the stories describe them as.” Lukas shrugged, bits of fallen wheat sticking to his hair as he moved. “I think it could be a turtle.”

Bastian smiled. “Very well. Then I call that one there,” he indicated with his finger, “a troll.”

Lukas shook his head. “No. Trolls are ugly. None of the clouds there could be considered ugly.”

“Perhaps you’re a troll then.” Bastian grinned and then started to laugh when Lukas rolled over on top of them and pinned him to the ground.

He continued to laugh even as Lukas kissed him.

\---

Benedikt waited in the trees, the thick branch of the pine he was standing on supported him easily enough. He kept his eyes on his prey, bowstring in his hand at the ready and he waited. The chill of the mountain air was closing in on him and he suppressed a shiver. Thankfully it wasn’t raining, yet, though the smell of it was growing heavier as the night began to descend.

He saw the doe stop drinking from the stream and he gauged the distance and breeze to his target. Just before he could release the string of his bow, another arrow from across the forest’s path caught Benedikt’s doe in a perfect mark. The doe fell, head slipping into the stream and Benedikt cursed.

He began his descent from the tree and arrived near the doe the same time as the marksman who had shot it did. Benedikt shook his head as the sky above rumbled with thunder.

“That was my shot.” Benedikt complained to his dark-haired friend.

“You waited too long.” He grinned and looked at the doe. “Help me get it home before we get soaked.”

Benedikt shook his head but did as Mario had asked. The sky lit up with lightning and they both heaved the doe between the two of them and started back to their home a few miles away.

\---

“I hope they succeed. I don’t want to have to fight a dragon.” Jürgen said as he looked into the fireplace in his private chambers.

Joachim carried over a glass of wine and handed it to him.

“I trust Miroslav will have it all well in hand. Besides, Thomas is a brave boy. They will come up with something so that no one will have to fight anyone.” Joachim said, squeezing Jürgen’s shoulder. The King looked over and smiled the smile he saved only for Joachim.

“Thank you, Jogi. You are a good friend to me, as you have been all these years.”

Joachim sat next to Jürgen in the chair next to his own and looked at his friend, the king. “Careful now,” he said and turned his attention to the fire, “you’ll make me sound old.”

Jürgen laughed a little and settled himself into a quiet night and was more than a little content at the peace and quiet of the castle as darkness crept across the land for the night.

\---

The campfire crackled in front of them as a chorus of crickets and other unknown bugs serenaded them. Thomas hadn’t camped much before, except a few times when he had been engaged in his military training or the few times Jürgen had taken him outside of the castle and the capital’s walls. He had loved those trips, the ones where they had gone down the river and into the Hills of Carda to the southeast.

It was the thoughts of his boyhood that kept him company even when the sounds of a storm began to call over the sound of the fire and the bugs.

“Will it hit us?” Marco asked from his right, speaking to Miro. Thomas glanced at the wizard.

“No, I dare say it won’t.” Miro replied without looking up from whatever book he was reading in the firelight.

“How can you be sure?” Thomas asked. Miro glanced up then, looking him in the eye. Unlike earlier, he looked more patient with him.

“The life around us continue to create sound. They would be seeking shelter if they believed a storm was oncoming.” Miro replied and then turned his gaze back to the pages in his hand.

Thomas shook his head and then he laid down, looking at the sky through the branches of the trees overhead. There were a few clouds illuminated by the moonlight, but not many. Miro probably was right, the storm wouldn’t dare touch the King’s heir.

He closed his eyes and listened as Manuel settled himself to go to bed also. A while later Marco was turning in. It was only Miroslav that seemed to stay up, every so often the sound of a turning page would come to Thomas’ senses. Still, he kept his eyes closed.

The lull of campfire and distant storms mixed with the soft song of a thousand crickets and the soft sounds of ponies. Thomas felt himself grow drowsy and was about to fall asleep, but not before he heard the murmured elvish command from the wizard across from him. As Miroslav spoke, the fire went low at once, embers leaving only casting a soft glow into the night.


	4. Nightwind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The journey continues... :D Enjoy!

The smell of frying eggs woke Thomas the next morning. He rolled onto his side, groaning as he did so because of a rock that found his elbow and pressed into his skin. He sat up slowly, hair sticking every which way as he did so. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and saw Manuel preparing their breakfast while Marco and Miroslav readied the horses for travel.

“Where did the eggs come from?” Thomas asked sleepily, head still fogged with sleep.

Manuel shrugged. “Miro handed them to me this morning.”

“A sparrow was kind enough to hand them over.” Miro said as he walked around Thomas to fold up the blanket he used to sleep on last night. “Eat quickly, the three of you.”

Thomas yawned and tried to wake himself properly.

Miro paused as he packed his horse and let the senses overtake him. He closed his eyes and let his aura spread from his body and into the forest beyond their campsite. The magic stretched its fingers and he used the Second Sight to look around while his physical body stayed in place. He searched the woods and didn’t immediately see anything unusual. That was, until, he spied a shadow in the trees. A shadow that wasn’t normal and shouldn’t have been there.

Miroslav recollected into himself and headed to where the others had finished their breakfast.

“Want some?” Thomas asked, mouth half-full with egg. Miroslav shook his head and looked at the others.

“We should not delay. We have many miles to go.” He said calmly and clearly before he dropped his tone. “ _We are not alone._ ”

Thomas’ hand twitched, almost as if it were reaching for his sword but Miro gave him a look.

“Of course,” Marco said and acted as though Miroslav hadn’t just told them someone, or something, was following them. “A long way to go and we can’t get there just sitting still.” He stood up and went to his horse.

Manuel quickly finished the rest of the eggs he had and looked once at Thomas before he rose also. They all acted as normally as possible and started to mount up on their horses. The group left their campsite as calmly as possible and continued down the forest road. So they went for a while until Manuel dared speak about what Miro had said. He moved his pony to be closer to Miro and looked at the wizard.

“How do you know we were followed?”

“I sensed a presence that did not belong.” Miro replied, maintaining a check on their follower using the same method he had to locate him in the first place. “It is a mortal man, of that I am sure.”

Manuel visually relaxed at that news. 

“Should we not question him?” Manuel asked, somewhat more cheerful. If it was a mortal man, then he could be killed at least. That was some comfort.

“Oh yes,” Miroslav agreed and looked at Manuel and spoke in the elvish tongue to him. He nodded agreement and slowed his pony to let Marco and Thomas move alongside of them.

“Marco, you come with me while Thomas, you stay with Miro here. We’ll go ahead to check the road.” Manuel said the last a little louder. He nodded once at Marco and they left the wizard and the heir behind to continue along at a normal pace while they cantered ahead.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked with a low tone.

Miro looked at him and smiled slowly. “An old trick.”

\---

_He watched with sad eyes as his wife’s fever grew stronger and the will of her grew weaker. She was dying. He knew it and he didn’t want to admit it. He would never admit that, nor could he accept it. Her belly was swollen with their child. She had to stay, had to fight a little longer. He told her as much._

_Softly, her voice a ghostly faint whisper from what it should have been. ‘I’m sorry.’_

_He kissed her hand and stared into her eyes. He wasn’t going to lose her this way._

\---

When Miroslav and Thomas reached the point in the road where a few trees had been knocked over by a storm long ago, their follower was nearby. They had made sure to travel at a leisurely pace to allow him to catch up; they didn’t want to lose him after all. Miro and Thomas rounded the bend in the road and continued on their way, at least that’s what their pursuer thought.

It wasn’t until he himself rounded the bend and saw an empty trail ahead of him that he realized he was the one that had been duped. Perhaps the trolls weren’t stupid after all; maybe it was just _him_.

He felt a sword at his neck and he glanced over to see a blond giant with his blade against his throat and he sighed. Really? Were these theatrics needed? He raised an eyebrow and asked the giant as much.

“Who are you?” Thomas appeared in his vision then and he looked at the King’s nephew.

“Call your dog off and I’ll be happy to answer you.” He replied in a light tone, smirking at the giant as he did so. The other man didn’t seem to quite share his humor. What a shame. Thomas nodded once at Manuel who only took a step back, but continued to keep his blade raised and at the ready. 

“Now then. The answer to the query?” Thomas asked again.

With a flourish, he removed his hat and bowed before the heir to the throne. He didn’t do it for respect; he more or less did it to antagonize the King’s nephew. It was a sarcastic gesture. His eyes never left Thomas’ face.

“The name my mother gave me when I was born is no longer relevant as you would not have heard of me by it. However, I gave myself my true name when I took up my career, your lordship. I am called the Nightwind, known as Mats Hummels to those I care to call upon and more prestigiously, I am Captain of the _Poisoned Hades_.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed instantly and so did Thomas’. Manuel gripped his sword a little tighter. It was Thomas who spoke.

“You’re a bloody pirate!” His hand went for his sword but the older man, who had been entirely out of sight until that moment rested his hand on Thomas’ shoulder.

“As if I haven’t heard that one before.” Mats replied, toothy grin in place as his eyes shown with mischief. He watched the wizard and the nephew and then turned his attention fully onto the wizard when Thomas stayed his hand.

“Why do you follow us, Captain?” The wizard asked.

“I had nothing else to do of late. I wondered what you’d be getting up to. Wondered if there was some mischief I could join in on.” Mats replied honestly for a change.

“There will be no mischief going on for quite a while, if any at all.” Marco replied, his sword still ready if needed.

“What a shame for me then.” Mats replied cordially but he still kept his attention on the wizard. Humans and their metal blades could only do so much damage, but a wizard? A wizard could ruin your life in a thousand different ways with a million different curses.

“Leave us, before I send for the guard to have you arrested for crimes against the crown.” Thomas spoke with a commanding air. He would make a loud king indeed.

If only the wizard hadn’t been around, Mats probably would have challenged him. As it was, Thomas’ lack of guardsmen to actually arrest him was one thing, but the wizard at his side was quite another. Mats would be lucky to escape if he angered the wizard.

“On the contrary, I think we could use our good privateering friend here.” Miroslav spoke, eyes looking him over as he did so. Mats frowned. Privateer? Well that was a nice thing to call what he did.

Thomas’ eyes looked as if they were going to bulge from his head as he stared at Miroslav. The boy needed to work on subtlety, Mats thought. Miroslav nodded as some idea seemed to solidify in his mind. Mats swallowed at the intense look on the man’s face.

“Indeed. What great journey could do without a resourceful ruffian who is light-fingered and nimble when needed?” Miroslav asked as he moved over and said something to Manuel in the elvish tongue. Manuel gave him a look, as if he really didn’t quite agree, but with one more admonishing look from the wizard, Manuel heaved a huge sigh and sheathed his sword before he disappeared off into the forest.

Marco was still glaring daggers at him while Thomas seemed incredibly pissed off that Miroslav had allowed this to transpire. Hell, that he was _inviting_ him to come along.

“Though I promise you, Nightwind, should you cross us, you will live to regret it.” Miroslav looked directly into his eyes. “This I promise you.”

“Before I know exactly what it is I am getting myself into, I understand and acknowledge what you just said.” Miroslav inclined his head in agreement. Mats continued. “And just what is it you are planning on doing?”

Miroslav smiled a little and something about it set the hairs on Mats’ neck rising.

“What do you know of dragons, master pirate?”

Mats raised his eyebrow. He had heard of them, obviously. He’d never seen one in person before. Before his father had died of fever when he was a boy, he’d been told great tales of the mystical beasts.

“Loads. Seen a few in my time.” He replied nonchalantly. Miroslav didn’t look quite as surprised as Thomas and Marco did. Mats thought that the wizard knew he was full of shit. However, Miroslav didn’t say anything about that.

“Really? Then how fortunate we are indeed.” Miroslav replied and looked to the forest. “Ah, there we are. Now we can be going.”

The three others looked over also and saw Manuel leading out a large chestnut mare from the forest. Twine had become the stead’s bridle and a small saddle had been fitted, though where that had come from, Mats couldn’t say. Nor could he say where a wild horse had been brought from. Strange indeed.

“And just what was it you were going to do with this dragon?” Mats looked from the horse to the wizard out of the corner of his eye.

“Converse with it, of course.” Miroslav replied nonchalantly as the others mounted their horses. “We could use you, Nightwind.”

Thomas and the others looked as if that was debatable. However, Mats didn’t pay them any attention. None of them would be stupid enough to argue with a wizard. He hadn’t known any of them for any length of time to confirm that but there was no way any one would be that stupid. No one would dare upset Miroslav the Wise. No one. Not even him.

“And what do I get out of it?” He asked, taking the twine from the giant blond.

“We won’t kill you.” Thomas replied snappishly from on top of his pony.

Miroslav looked as if he was going to roll his eyes, perhaps he already had. Again, Mats was looking only at him and not the King’s nephew.

“I’m sure some reward could be earned for your time. Are you with us?” Miroslav looked into his eyes and Mats found himself nodding.

As they began down the forest road, Miroslav was in the front with Thomas just off his shoulder. Mats was in the middle and Marco and Manuel brought up the rear. Something told him he really hadn’t had a choice and that if he tried to escape now, the two behind him would kill him before he could get anywhere. That was, of course, if the wizard hadn’t already turned him into a mushroom.

Mats swallowed hard. He much preferred the sea to the smell of pines and the freedom of his ship to the shackles of the reigns in his hand.


	5. The Unfriendly Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Again, I hope you enjoy :) Please R&R!

They were four days ride from the capital when they came across a small village in the middle of the wheat field. It wasn’t the first they had seen of such a place with a few small stone cottages and little else apart from a small pub that served as an inn and trading post. They had left behind the Great Forest Road two days ago and had seen several small places such as this.

This was, however, the first one they stopped at. Miro had commanded it and they hadn’t complained in the least. In fact, they were grateful to him for it.

What they had been doing was camping just off the roadside in the forest and then the nights they had been near the endless fields, they had rested there. The difference between those other times and now was the fact that another storm had come across from the south, the breezes carrying the ocean’s wrath across the forest and dumping it on them. The thunder had started early in the afternoon, a drizzle had come with it, and by the time the sun set, a little earlier due to the thick clouds, it was pouring.

Soaked through to the skin, they stopped at the pub and Miro walked inside ahead to work out accommodations while Thomas and the others took their horses to the only stable in the entire village to discuss boarding them for the night. By the time they had returned, Miroslav was awaiting them at the door with two small keys in hand.

“Only two rooms? You must be joking!” Marco complained first but a sharp glance from Miro and a nudge from Manuel had him scowling in silence instead.

“It was all they could spare, and besides, we will only be here the one night.” Miro stated and looked amongst the group. “Decide it amongst yourselves and then let us be off to dinner. I care not who I share with.”

Manuel looked at the King’s nephew, the pirate, and his fellow soldier. He was used to sleeping in such cramped spaces. He shrugged. “I’ll share with the pirate and Marco.”

“I have a name you know.”

“The fucking pirate.”

The blond and the brunette scowled at one another when they spoke at the same time before they huffed and Marco stole the key from Miro’s hand.

“Fine. But you’re in the middle, _Nightwind_.” Marco said his alias with dripping sarcasm.

Miro shook his head at both and then looked at one of his greatest friend’s nephews. “Very well then. So be it.”

They nodded to one another and then moved over to the small pub’s hall where they stood out like a damp sore thumb. All eyes of the normal villagers turned to them and followed them as they sat at a table next to the fireplace. The group had only been seated for a few moments when a man, more round than tall, came up to their table and gave them a wary smile.

“What’ll you have?” he asked, accent gruff and unfriendly. Miro raised an eyebrow.

“Three ales and a pint for me, if you please along with something hearty.” Miroslav spoke before the others could get to it. The man nodded and turned with a heavy step and strode back across the hall. The villagers continued to stare.

“Something is off about this place,” Mats said with his tone very soft. “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.” Thomas replied and subtly glanced around in the fire and lantern light illuminating the hall.

Manuel and Miroslav shared a look and Miro shook his head slightly. Manuel nodded before dropping his eyes to his hands folded in his lap. Miro smiled politely when the man returned with their order and a stew of some steaming meat.

“What news do you have?” Miroslav asked casually after the soup had been set down. “We’ve been on the road for weeks.”

The barman looked at Miro and turned away to walk across the room without answering. Marco raised his eyebrows and looked at his companions.

“That was hardly friendly.”

Miro shook his head and was considering using his magic to find out what exactly was going on when little more than a boy with a face friendlier than the rest came over to sit next to Manuel on the bench. He was blond with blue eyes, much like Manuel, only he was shorter and his face was more expressive.

“Are you from Ansieál?” the boy, because that’s all he really was at the look of him, asked with wide-hopeful eyes.

“What makes you think we’re from the capital?” Marco asked with a raised eyebrow.

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. You aren’t from around here and you speak too well to be from the mountains or from abroad…”

He trailed off, looking lost in thought and Miro raised an eyebrow.

“What’s your name dear fellow?”

He smiled, coming back to the pub instead of the clouds of his thoughts. “My name is Bastian.”

“You are observant; you must do your village proud.” Miroslav replied kindly and Bastian beamed brightly. “To answer your question, we originally hail from the capital, but some of us come from all over our beautiful country.”

The answer seemed to placate the boy, but he still remained seated at the table with them. He even made an order for a small cup of the delicious stew and was given it by the gruff keeper of the pub. Miroslav shook his head at the others when they looked as if they were going to protest or ask the boy to leave. Marco looked as if he were going to sigh or protest but Miro gave him a warning look.

As they had their dinner, the boy would ask various questions of them, which they would give polite and semi-honest answers. Mostly he would talk and tell stories of the villages, the one they were in and the others nearby. His tales even ventured so far as to the mountains. As he spoke, even Marco appeared to listen to what he had to say.

The other villagers’ looks of discontent didn’t stray from their faces and in fact they were looking at their fellow neighbor with the same look now. Miroslav made a silent study of it and shook his head. Lowering his tone, he leaned close to Bastian and caught the boy’s eyes as he trailed off into silence.

“Bastian,” he started softly. “Bastian, why do your neighbors look as if we mean you all ill will?’

Thomas and the others subconsciously shifted closer at that because they too wanted to know what silent hostility they had earned from their arrival. Bastian fell quieter at that, the first time since he had sat down and joined them. He shrugged and looked at his now empty-cup of stew.

“I suppose it’s because—”

“Bastian!” One of the closest villagers spoke in an admonishing tone. Then they said something in the particular dialect of the region in which they were in, a dialect that was lost on all but Miroslav. By the time the villager finished scolding Bastian, whose eyes had lowered and he looked ashamed, he had mumbled an excuse about needing to go home.

Miroslav reached over and rested a hand on the boy’s arm, who didn’t shrug it off, and he spoke also in the same dialect, to the embarrassment of all who could understand and had been listening.

“I understand your concerns about strangers,” he said in the rough dialect. “We are no murderers or thieves, and we are only passing through for the night. We sought shelter from the storm and wish no ill wind on anyone. We are a peaceful company.”

“Then why do you bring your weapons here?” The pubkeeper asked Miroslav.

Miroslav turned to face him and looked him in the eyes as he spoke honestly. “While we may mean no ill wishes to anyone we come across, that cannot be said for everyone. Some will wish ill no matter what you do to appease them.”

The villagers stared at Miroslav and he looked back at all of them, always in the eye and not for an excessive amount of time. Finally, one of the women, perhaps the wife of the pubkeeper, huffed out a sigh and ordered everyone back to their business and that there was nothing to see.

Marco, Thomas, Manuel and Mats all looked warily at the leader of their company and waited for an explanation for the several moments of tense hostility that they had had to sit through. Miroslav shook his head and they took it to mean that he would explain what had happened at a later time. That was for the best, assuredly.

Turning back to their guest, Miroslav changed back to the language that they could all understand and he patted Bastian’s arm.

“Don’t look so reproached, my good lad. You are only being friendly. A wonderful trait in a person, I’ve always said this myself.” Miroslav nodded and finished his drink.

Thomas nodded and smiled at the boy. “He has indeed.”

Bastian nodded a little. It took a little more prodding before the boy would smile again and soon it was as if they tenseness from the village hadn’t happened at all and the boy was back to telling them about the forests and even the great lake beyond the fields. Bastian was quick to reply that he hadn’t ever seen it in person as he had never been beyond the edge of the field, but he also was quick to say that one day he would be able to see it.

And so they finished their dinner and listened to him speak until it grew quite late into the night and they needed rest.

\---

The night passed without further incident, apart from the intensity of the storm that occasionally would shake the glass in the panes from the loudness of the thunder. Even the bed that held three of the largest men in the company had stood under their weight and they had slept without complaint, though they would not admit it when asked by the Wizard the next morning. As for Mirsolav and Thomas, they had shared without issue also and had slept back to back.

As they saddled their horses to leave the next morning after breakfast, the sky was full of clouds still and the dawn broke in a gray color that stayed even after the sun was higher into the sky that the early morning would have it. The earth smelled refreshed, bathed in rainwater and it clung to it. The moisture was heavy in the air and it seemed as if it would likely rain again before the day was over.

They walked their horses from the stables and mounted up. None of the villagers appeared to be sorry at the sight of them leaving, nor could they say they would miss this village after they had gone also.

Thomas led the way from the village on the road heading west, towards the mountains, and Manuel was right behind him as always. Mats and Marco brought up the rear with Miroslav in the middle this time. They had made it no fewer than a league out of the village before they heard someone calling after them, asking them to wait.

Miroslav turned in his seat and saw the boy from the night before bringing along a pony of his own across the field. It was very obvious what he wanted.

“Gods! He can’t expect to join us!” Marco stated for the group.

“It would seem that he does. I like his spirit.” Mats replied with a grin and Marco rolled his eyes at him.

Bastian drew nearer to them and he smiled hopefully and shyly at Miroslav.

“Please, I know I have no right to ask it, but may I join you on your travels?” He asked, excitement and shyness causing him to blush red.

“Your right, you have no right to ask it.” Marco replied shortly, but Miroslav cut him off before he could do worse.

“Why do you want to leave your family behind? Your home?”

Bastian shrugged and spoke quietly, due to Marco’s remark. “I’ve always wanted to travel and see what’s beyond this village. Please…please let me go?” He was almost begging now.

Miroslav considered him for a moment. “The road ahead won’t be easy. It’ll be dangerous.”

Bastian nodded slowly. “I am capable with a bow, if need be.” He shifted on his horse to show a bow and a quiver full to the brim with arrows.

Miro nodded and looked to the others. “I will put it to the vote. Those in favor?”

Manuel, Miro and Mats raised their hands. Marco and Thomas looked at one another and knew they were defeated before looking back to Bastian.

Thomas was the only one that leaned over and spoke to Miroslav. “You will be in charge of his safety then. I will not be responsible for his fate.”

Miroslav nodded and smiled warmly at Bastian. “Very well then, you may join our company.”

Even the sun could not rival the brightness of the joy on Bastian’s face as he moved his horse next to Miroslav and they started forward down the road once again.


	6. The Three Roads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some geography for you! One of these days I may make a map for this story... anyway, sorry again for the delay. Hope you enjoy it :D

The road leading away from the village stayed in the fields for several hours before it came to a three-pronged fork in the road. All the while, Bastian had been telling adventures to Mats about his childhood and the mischief he’d gotten up to in an effort to starve off the boredom that came with being the second son of a farmer of wheat and other crops in the heartland of their country. The others seemed content enough to let the boy talk because he was, at least, saving them from their own boredom of the monotonous road. He did have a way of telling a story, also.

When they arrived at the fork, Miro paused the company and closed his eyes. He remained atop his horse and simply seemed to be lost in thought. Thomas thought he was acting much more like a cat who yearned to soak up as much sunlight as possible, from the way he was leaning forward in his saddle and into the warm reach of the sun’s rays.

Marco and Mats watched as Miroslav remained silent for a long while. They looked to one another and shrugged. Even Bastian had grown silent, curiously so, as he watched the undoubted leader of the group. He was confused as to what the man was doing but he supposed there was a good reason for whatever it was. He had learned in the few hours that he had been with them, and even from last night, that this Miro was a great man. The others respected him and did whatever he told them without protest. It was interesting, he thought. There was also something else about him that didn’t make any sense either, but that was more of a feeling than anything else. It seemed as though he had an aura about him.

When Miro made no effort to speak, Marco looked at Thomas and lowered his voice as he called over.

“What is he doing?” Thomas shrugged and Manuel sighed, after he rolled his eyes. The others turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.

“He’s likely seeing council as to which way we should go.” Manuel gestured to the three roads in front of them. One went straight ahead, to the west. The one on the left cut south and the road on the right seemed to cut west also, but it went more north than west.

“And this is up for debate?” Thomas asked, having never travelled into these lands before.

The others talked amongst themselves for a few moments until Miro broke his trance and turned in his seat to look at them disapprovingly. They grew silent quickly.

“It is hard to make a determination on the subject when all of you, apart from our newfound companion, speak so loudly.” The others except for Bastian looked uncomfortable at having been mentioned. It was Bastian’s turn to grow uncomfortable when Miroslav turned to look at him. “Young Master Bastian, would you care to offer your advice upon me? I could use some assistance locating the best route for our adventure.”

Bastian nodded and slowly moved his pony forward next to Miroslav’s and Thomas’.

“What do you need, sir?” He asked hesitatingly.

“Have you heard word of any troubles on the roads west of your village?” Miroslav asked and watched him. Bastian looked in thought for a few moments before he shook his head.

“No sir. Not until you get to the mountains anyway.” He looked almost fearful at that.

“What’s wrong in the mountains?” Miroslav asked patiently. The entire company already knew the answer; after all, that was why they were on their way.

“They say there’s a dragon up there. It wakes and destroys villages whenever the fancy takes it.”

“Are you afraid of dragons?” Marco asked, amusement in his tone. Even Mats’ dark eyes were shining a little.

“You’d be crazy not to be!” He replied defensively before turning back to Miroslav. “We’re headed to the mountains, aren’t we?” At Miro’s patient nod, Bastian asked again. “We’re going to see the dragon, aren’t we?”

“Yep.” Thomas replied, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. Bastian resisted a groan.

“You can always go home, if you like.” Marco replied helpfully, earning a glare from Manuel. “Fine then, he can stay. Which way would you have us go then, farmer?”

Bastian looked at the roads before them and then back at Miroslav. Again, he felt that mysterious aura but he couldn’t describe what it was he felt. Only that it was something and it didn’t seem normal, natural. The way Miro watched him was as if he was curious and wondering about a hundred different things, but Bastian couldn’t quite place what exactly was so interesting about himself that would have a well-learned man from Ansieál interested in _him_ in the first place.

He was about to point out a way, the road going straight ahead, when they all heard a noise from behind them. Bastian’s heart jumped a little in his chest while the others half-drew their swords but when Bastian saw who was traipsing, rather loudly, through the cornfields he relaxed.

“What are you doing here?” He called to their visitor. The others looked at him in surprise, only one or two of them put their swords away.

Lukas crashed out of the field and dusted himself off. He looked quite disheveled. His hair was a mess (more so than usual) and his clothes were covered in dust. He looked as if he’d been walking quite a long way.

“You know this person?” Marco asked, finally putting his sword away when it appeared there was little to no danger present.

Bastian nodded, although it was sheepishly. “He’s my…” he paused and frowned when Lukas crossed his arms. “What?”

“I’m your what, Schweini? Your boyfriend? Your ‘One’? Your person you forgot at home and left without word to? What am I _Basti_?”

Mats started to chuckle, though he was kind enough to look away to do so. Manuel rolled his eyes and he took to looking at anywhere that wasn’t at Bastian or the newfound guest. Marco looked incredulous and disapproving while Thomas moved closer to Miro to discuss their next move. Miro appeared amused, like Mats had, and watched the pair.

Bastian looked sheepish and blushed. “I’m sorry, Lukas. I just…I needed to hurry and I didn’t see you and—”

“And if you think I’m letting you out of my sight again, forget it.” Lukas replied and moved over to Bastian’s horse.

“We can’t bring another one along too!” Marco complained. “We’ve already gotten too many as it is!”

“The more the merrier?” Mats asked with a sweet smile on his face and that was quickly erased when Marco threw a fistful of poppy seeds into his face.

“Perhaps he’s right,” Thomas replied, looking at the group. “It couldn’t hurt to have more than just us on this quest. Perhaps we won’t be such a target then.”

“A target for what?” Lukas asked as he climbed on top of Bastian’s horse with him. The pony shifted underneath the new addition to weight on his back. Lukas pressed close against his love’s back and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“A dragon, Mister…?” Thomas started and then paused to wait for a reply.

Lukas supplied one at once. “Podolski. Lukas Podolski.” Thomas nodded and the entire company waited for his reaction to the news of the dragon. “A dragon eh? So that explains it.”

“Explains what?” Miro asked curiously, watching the pair of them with even more interest than he had shown Bastian if that was even remotely possible.

“Why you were headed west for the mountains.” Lukas shrugged. “Which way are we headed now?”

“That’s why we’re stopped. We couldn’t decide.” Mats returned and moved his horse closer to the others. The sun was high above them in the sky, but it was slowly beginning to dip down towards the west. “I fear we may be here all night if we can’t decide soon.”

For those well travelled in the region, Miro and Mats were the only ones amongst those in the company, they knew the dangers of the roads ahead. Miro knew more than Mats did, however. What he knew caused him great pause for consideration, indeed.

The path that branched straight ahead would stretch through the fields a while longer before it went back into the Brundagir Forest, previously described as the Great Forest that the company had travelled in when they left Ansieál. Where the road leading from the capital had been flat as it had travelled underneath the ancient trees, the road here was much rougher. It was not often flat, when it was it was rutted and in disrepair because of how little it was used.

There were few villages in the woods there because of how rocky the ground became. Hills grew from the ground and stretched high into the sky until they formed part of the middle section of the Western Mountains. At night the temperatures dropped significantly, regardless of the season. The trees grew thicker and dense, until the road became barely more than a path as it moved and wound through those trees. There was a magic in the forest there, a magic that not even Miroslav wanted to face unless he had to. It was the least direct way, but perhaps the most uneasy.

The road that went to the left and therefore the southerly road was the second shortest way. Like the direct path, it too cut through the trees of Brundagir and would be an uphill road on a rocky path. However, because it went to the south, the road cut across the part of the forest that would be soaked by the rains that came from the coast. The Brundagir Forest, regardless where you were, faced the ocean and the closer you got to it, the more rain fell upon your head. Eventually the road ran out on the Cliffs of Indéne where it dropped, hundreds of feet into the sea. The road there would be dangerous because of how close to the Cliffs they would need to get to climb into the mountains and get to their destination.

The road north was perhaps the most dangerous, even if it were the most direct of the other routes. The Northerly Road was used by mostly those who wished to leave the country altogether and didn’t mind a bit of hardship to do so. It went to the Otherlands, once you travelled that far north. The Northerly Road didn’t cross the mountains at all, it only went parallel to them. Half-way to the Otherlands, there would be a path that branched off and would cut west, directly into the mountains. It would cross the Brundagir least of all the others, in fact only in one place. The trail into the mountains was nothing but a small narrow path that went directly into the mountains through the pass at Ebibis before it rose higher still into the fells in the Western Mountains. It would be the path that would get them the closest to the rumored ruins of Avenore.

The only problem with the most direct way was a rather large one, vast in its enormity. The sands of the Erovíere Desert laid in wait once you left the fields across the plains of the country. It stretched for miles upon miles, truly from horizon to horizon for at least three days before it ended. If you could get that far. The heat from the sun was merciless and there was no water in the entire desert. The only place where any could be found was in the Spring, the only spring, at Ebibis, four days’ ride from where they currently were.

Miroslav considered the options as best he could. His memory hadn’t failed him and he remembered their stores of water and food.

He was extremely opposed to the road into Erovíere because he had never liked the sun-scorched earth and the blazing heat of it on his face. It was uncomfortable and needlessly dangerous. Not to mention if ever there were thieves or vagabonds, they could be found hiding in the rocks to the east along the ridge of hills that trapped the heat into the valley. It was stupidly dangerous to go that way, even if it were quicker.

The southern road that kissed the Indénese cliffs wasn’t a favorite of his either, but he was leaning in that direction. The strength of the dark magic in the Brundagir was less so there. The trees weren’t as thick and the road was a little less steep. It would mean more travel across the actual mountains and they would have to travel north to get back to Avenore, but it appeared that it would be the best choice.

He was about to announce this to the company when he noticed something odd about Bastian’s companion. Miro frowned and watched the boy before he spoke.

“Something ails you, Master Lukas?”

The rest of the company turned to face him, surprised he had come from his thoughts at last. Then they looked at Lukas.

“I feel as if we should go straight ahead.” He mumbled at first and then repeated louder. Miro raised an eyebrow.

“And the inclination as to why?”

Lukas shrugged. “Just an instinct. We should go straight ahead.”

Miro knew there was something not-quite normal about both of them, but he couldn’t place it. They appeared to be normal human boys, a bit young and travel-ready perhaps, but nothing abnormal. Still, something wasn’t right about them. He would have to figure that out later. Perhaps they had had a dwarven relative distantly or something; yes, that could explain it.

“An instinct you say?” he repeated and then looked to the roads again. He was a firm believer in instincts, very handy things they were, and not something to be ignored lightly. Still, his knowledge of the country and the roads and what lay ahead stayed heavy in his mind. He knew great things of magic and dark creatures, had seen a good few of them where others only read about them in books, and even he was uneasy about going into the thickest part of the Brundagir. “I put it to the vote.”

Miro turned and repeated the statement to the company. “Those in favor of the path directly ahead?”

He kept his hand down but Bastian and Lukas raised theirs along with Manuel.

“To the North?” Marco and Mats raised their hands.

“And the South…” Only he and Thomas raised theirs. They were defeated. “Straight ahead then.”

As they began their way forward at long last, Miro wondered if his expression had changed to belie his conflicting opinion. He rode ahead of the others, Thomas on his right as always and the others fell into line behind them. The sun would set before they could arrive at the forest’s edge and Miroslav thought that was a good thing.

The forest was dark enough on its own; it hardly needed the night to make it worse.


	7. Fire Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More history and a geography lesson! By the by, I was bored at work and [I made a rather interesting map](http://i.imgur.com/K4EhIOW.jpg) yes, I was that bored. But the map is totally helpful. *nods*
> 
> I'm already working on the next part, so go read this one lovelies! *squishes all of you* I hope all of you are liking this story and if not, please provide me some feedback that says why not. Also, comments are wonderful. Good, bad, and ugly. Let me know what you think. :)

The sound of crickets and the symphony of other insects mixed with the pop and sizzling of the campfire as the group sat around the blaze and listened to the night. The soft orange glow cast them in shadow while the warmth from the fire didn’t stretch too far. It wasn’t a cold night, mercifully and nor was it raining, both things all of them were grateful for, having travelled through enough rain since the onset of the journey.

Lukas, while still verbally sulking at Bastian, sat right next to his boyfriend, hands linked together and holding tightly. Thomas was next to Miroslav a short distance to the couple’s left, and Marco was next to Mats. Manuel was in the middle to complete the circle of seven.

“So what are you going to do when you get to the dragon’s keep?” Lukas asked after a lull in conversation. The others seemed to perk up as they looked to Miroslav.

The oldest of them all released a quiet breath and set the plate of food he’d just finished to the ground. He looked into the fire for a moment before he glanced up and spoke to Lukas, but addressed them all.

“Speak to it, of course. Try to reason with it. Dragons can be quite logical after all.”

“And if it isn’t logical?” Mats asked as he looked like the picture of perfect relaxation. He had a knack for that, Bastian thought, looking comfortable no matter where he was. Now, he had his elbow resting on his thigh as his leg was drawn up in an arch while his other stretched out long beside him. “What would you have us do then?”

That was a fair question. Even Bastian grew particularly interested in the answer.

Miro looked Mats in the eye and none in the company had ever seen him look so…weary. So old. Thomas never had seen him that way, and he’d known him his entire life. Miro finally looked away from Mats and turned his attentions to Marco instead.

“Master Reus, won’t you tell us how you can kill a firedrake?” He leaned back and made himself comfortable, as best he could given the topic of conversation.

Marco looked at the wizard and shook his head. “Three ways, as far as anyone knows. The most obvious: drown it, if you could find a body of water that nearby. Secondly would be a sword wielded only by the king: the Blade of the Kings. Some elven thing that they made ages ago,” Marco waved his hand dismissively causing Manuel to ‘humph’ a little. “Lastly is a blade to the eye, if you care to get that close.”

Mats made an amused sound that suggested he would never, ever like to be caught under such circumstances to be that close to a dragon. Bastian and Lukas stared at the keeper of the guard with awe and perhaps the suggestion of fear at the news he told. Thomas looked at his own sword. It was not the famed Blade of the Kings but it was his own. It had been forged and made for his hand, and his hand only and as wonderful as it was, it wasn’t the sword of legend that his uncle had in his possession.

Bastian listened as the others had also lapsed into silence and he watched the flames in front of him for a while. It seemed as everyone was content to just sit in the quiet, but he and Lukas had never been one for those. An idea occurred to him. He looked at Miroslav with hope and interest in his eyes as he smiled at the older man.

“I bet someone as well travelled as yourself sir knows a lot of good stories. Would you please tell one?” He looked so hopeful, so enthusiastic about it, that Miroslav didn’t even sigh. He considered them a moment before he finally agreed.

“Very well then. What kind of story would you care to hear?” He raised an eyebrow and waited for a reply.

“I don’t know, something interesting and—”

“Full of adventure!” Bastian had started as Lukas added the last.

“Something interesting and adventurous.” Miroslav appeared to be in thought for a moment as he turned his eyes towards the sky. The dark thick cloud of smoke mixed with the inky black of night as it climbed heavenwards, the shadow of the trees reflected in the moonlight as a million stars rested contentedly in the sky. Finally, he looked back down and saw that he held everyone’s attention, apart from Mats who was busy looking into the fire. Perhaps he had the pirate’s attention after all. “Very well.”

“In the days of the Iron Age, long before any of you were even thought of by the Gods, our homeland was not as we know it now. It was divided into four regions and in those four regions there were many kingdoms.” Miroslav started and some nodded, having already known this. “From the coast in the west beyond the mountains stretching all the way across to where the Great River meets that of the Eastern at Thrush was the kingdom of the elven peoples. They knew the Brundagir like the backs of their hands and they were not to be trifled with.”

Bastian’s interested renewed itself at the mention of elves. He had never seen one in all his life, but he had seen things that they had had their hands in, such as the finest bows he’d ever seen, arrows that never missed. He had seen their strange writing on books that travellers brought with them on their way through the village. It was hard for him to believe that the elves had once lived where he had. But Miro was right, this had all been ages ago, before anyone, even he had been alive.

“In the valley off the west fork of the Eastern River there was the kingdom of man at home in Ansieál where we all know they still reside to this very day. Only in those days there was no great kingdom. All it had to its name was the western bank of the river, the small part of the valley, and just to where the fields began. In all, it was about half the size that the capital is now.

The other great kingdom was that of the dwarven race. Where the elves had taken the south, the dwarves had taken the north of the Western Mountains and it stretched from the sea, across the northern plains of Erovíere, and across the northern mountains all the way to the Otherlands now. They had a town on the North Lake, the only one where they really traded with elves and men, that was called in our tongue Báka.”

“Are you going to continue to tell us things we already know?” Marco asked impatiently, earning a disapproving glare from Miroslav and Bastian, who had been eagerly interested in the story. None of the other travellers that came to his village ever had revealed the history of their land. They, like Marco, likely thought that everyone knew the history of the land.

“What was the fourth kingdom?” Lukas asked, bringing his attention back to the story. Miroslav nodded and settled back into his story.

“The fourth was ruled by evil creatures. We call those lands the Otherlands now because they have stayed out of our boarders since the last of the wars in that Age.”

“What kind of evil creatures? Dragons?” Bastian asked, excitement in his voice. Mats was the one who answered.

“There are more foul things than just dragons in this world, lad.” He said, looking away from the fire into Bastian’s eyes. Something shone in his dark eyes but Bastian wasn’t quite sure what. He had liked the man, the pirate as he’d been told, from the start. He was an interesting man. Miro didn’t seem to mind this interruption to his story as he gave a nod for Mats to continue.

“In the Otherlands there are dragons, yes. There’s also trolls aplenty, goblins beyond counting, imps and pixies to keep mischief alive. There’s thieves, murderers, robbers, criminals who somehow escaped the king. There’s also sorcerers of dark magic, the worst of them all.”

Miro’s open expression closed itself at the mention of the dark magic, but no one seemed to notice. The fire flickered a little and it seemed to dim and even the forest appeared to grow a little quieter at the mention. Mats had the attention of everyone now.

“You sound as though you’ve been there before, pirate.” Marco replied sarcastically, earning an eye roll and a backhanded light slap from Mats on the arm.

“Aye. Many times.” He shrugged and went back to looking at the fire before he looked at Miro. He had noticed the change and gave an apologetic half-smile. “You were saying, sir?”

“Those creatures that he mentioned made up the fourth kingdom.” Miro started again after a moment as he looked from Mats to Bastian and Lukas. “Neither the elves, the humans, or the dwarves favored the creatures for they were more trouble than their worth. So that began the many series of wars in the Iron Age, hence the name. I will not go into them now, for there were many. Some were won, others lost, and a few even appeared to be a draw. It went on for centuries; peace was not known in this world for many years, many generations.

It came to be that the trio of kingdoms overcame the monsters and the darkness and cast them out of our home. Separating the lands into the spoils, the humans took more than they had previously had, Ansieál now stretched on both sides of the river and into the Plains of Adoras. The Iron Age ended and so began our current age, the one of prosperity and peace. Throughout the thousand years since the change, the dwarves, as you know,” Miro spared a glance there for Marco who stayed quiet this time, “have all but been lost to our lands. The elves have also retreated into the mountains and their influence does not reach as far as it once did.”

“Why is that?” Lukas interrupted. Marco sighed and went to lay down away from them. He’d had enough of repeating information he had learned in schoolbooks and had been told by relatives for his entire life. The others ignored him as he left.

“At the time of the last war and the final battle, the dwarves had their own problems in their ranks. It is unknown what happened to them, perhaps a civil war, but no one is certain. What is certain is that they abandoned their city roughly a couple hundred years after the final battle. Báka remains abandoned to this day. Their empire which had once stretched to the coast was lost and only the traces of dwarven culture can be found in the North Mountains.” Miro stopped there and he looked into the darkness of the trees. He was silent for a few moments, but the crickets resumed their chorus.

“As for the elves…” Bastian looked up from where he had been in thought about the mystery of the dwarves and looked excited and interested again. “Master Neuer, won’t you care to tell?” Manuel shook his head, redness likely staining his cheeks as he blushed. Thomas patted his friend’s knee and smiled. Bastian didn’t get it but Lukas thought he understood.

“Very well, then.” Miro smiled a little and looked back to the two boys from the village. “The elvish people returned home where they stayed just as they had before the years of war had ruined things. Only it wasn’t quite the same. Part of the forest had died due to so many battles and fires caused by them. Many of the trees from East Milton to Thrush had been cut down to make weapons or fortifications or used for firewood or a hundred other things. The elves had to retreat into their home more and more, though they did replant that part of the forest before they left. That’s why the Brundagir is newer there and the trees aren’t as thick.

“Elves are not like us. They age slowly and can live for an age or longer. Knowledge and resourcefulness are their great loves, for they are not overly amorous creatures. There are not many elven children and those that are age slowly, as I said.”

“They’re cold bastards is what they are.” Marco called over from where he’d been resting earlier. Manuel rolled his eyes, confirming Lukas’ suspicions. Mats threw a rock over his shoulder in Marco’s general direction.

Bastian let the silence grow in the space that surrounded the campfire. He felt sad somehow. Sad about all the things that had changed and been lost. A race of dwarves gone, or at least missing, and the race of the elves who were on their way to following the dwarves it sounded like. Heaviness weighed in his heart and he couldn’t explain why. After all, he never met an elf and a dwarf was a fairy story anyway. No one had ever met a dwarf, not since the dawn of the current age, as Miro had said.

“Well, with the master of the guard’s delicate words of wisdom, I suggest we turn in for the evening.” Thomas interrupted the quiet after a few moments. “Thank you for your story, Miro.”

Miroslav and Thomas shared a look and a nod and Manuel moved over to stretch out on the blanket he had waiting for him. The others also made ready their beds as Miro took the first watch. He leaned against a tree and watched the others laying down for their rest.

Bastian wasn’t sure, but he could’ve sworn Miro murmured something in a funny way and the fire actually dimmed at his command. Perhaps he was just tired. He laid down, snuggled close to Lukas and closed his eyes. He fell asleep to the dreams of a missing dwarven prince and an elf lord helping Bastian find him.


	8. Birdsong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, another update \0/ Thank you for your wonderful comments, my darlings! I hope you enjoy this one also ♥

The soft squeak of ropes moving in simple easy rhythm with the gentle rolling of the boat on the tide was a wonderful, beautiful sound that he loved listening to. The ship was creaking right along as the surf of the ocean hit the hull of the boat. Outside the sun would likely be rising over the horizon and it would be a new day to seek out a new land, a new treasure and go forward into his own destiny.

Mats smiled in his sleep until the loud chirping of the birds washed the sound of the sea and his most treasured ship away from his consciousness. His eyes opened slowly and he was greeted with a gentle caress of sunlight coming through the trees and into his face. Squinting from the brightness of the light, he suppressed a groan. He hated sleeping on the ground. He just wanted his bunk in his ship back. He missed the roll of the tide and the taste of salt on his tongue, the harshness in the wind, and the uneasiness of a storm that rises from the south with no warning. That was his home, that was his paradise.

Laying on the ground underneath a dew-covered blanket underneath the boughs of some trees while birds sang above his head wasn’t quite what he had in mind when he had been thrown off his ship and he had landed on the ground. Perhaps he could convince the king’s nephew that he was worthy enough of enough gold to buy back his ship. That would make him happy. _The Poisoned Hades_ would be back in her master’s loving hands and he’d make sure those trolls knew not to fuck with him ever again.

With great reluctance, he sat up and looked around. Miroslav, Manuel, and Thomas were all missing though their belongings and ponies were still with the others. Marco was still asleep and so were the lovebirds. The tempting itch to make a break for it while the guardsman was still asleep was there, but he had made a promise and he wasn’t going to edge the wizard into turning him into a frog, or something worse.

Mats stood up and stretched; a knot had formed in his lower back that he groaned quietly for. He tried to rub out the kinks as he walked into the forest a little bit further. The air was cool, chilly to the skin and he yawned lengthily. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent so many nights out of doors since he was a boy and he’d had no other choice but to sleep outside.

Mats turned away from the memories of his childhood and walked further into the trees. This was not part of the new forest as Miro had mentioned in his story last night. No, this was the outskirts of the old forest. They were only sleeping on the edge of it, where the light would still filter through the trees and the birds still sang. He’d heard many tales of the lands in which he’d been drug across these past few weeks on his other travels. All the ones about the Western Mountains hadn’t necessarily been all that inspiring. Mats laughed a little to himself. He thought that, and yet, he was part of a company on a quest and looking to ‘speak logically to a dragon’. My, how far he’d fallen from the captain of his ship.

He wandered a little further into the woods and then paused, listening hard. Something in the air had changed. The birds didn’t sound as cheerful and they sounded further away. He tilted his head and listened as he stopped moving altogether. He could hear his breathing, soft and normal sounding to him, but he heard no more. The distant song of sparrows and other birds were behind him; there were no insects, no sound of the wind, nothing.

All was still and that’s how he knew he had been spotted.

Mats closed his eyes and exhaled. He didn’t keep them closed for long before he opened them and he felt the tip of the sword pressing against his back. He didn’t dare turn around, only held his hands up slowly, cautiously.

“ _Speak your name, dark one._ ” His attacker spoke to him in elvish. Mats knew enough to reply to him, fortunately.

“ _Mats. I come into this forest with no ill will._ ” He turned slowly and looked up, because he had to, into the youthful looking face of an elf. This one had dark hair that fell past his shoulders but somehow stayed out of his face, tucked behind the telltale signs of pointy ears.

The elf looked him over, looking for weapons most likely, and finally relaxed the hold he had on his bow.

“ _You travel with the wizard?_ ” the elf asked, still regarding him as a potential threat. Mats nodded at once. “ _Very well then. Come with me._ ”

For a moment Mats wanted to go get his things, but from the way the grip was on the elf’s bow, Mats didn’t want to press it. So he walked with the elf, in front of him so that the other creature could keep a watch on him, further into the forest until any trace of birdsong had completely gone. To replace it, the sound of crunching twigs and leaves underfoot became the only sound he could hear, and that was his own. The elf seemed to glide over without making a single noise at all.

The further they went into the forest the darker it became. Even though it was still early morning, the sun’s power was growing weaker here. Eventually the golden light had grown dim to the grey that would normally present dawn instead. Mats was glad he at least knew the time that he had woken because it would be all too easy to lose time in here.

Eventually the elf made him stop and Mats looked over with a raised eyebrow. The elf kept his eyes on him as he walked to a tree that looked older than the rest, it had a thicker trunk and it appeared to be taller than others nearby. The elf laid his hand on the trunk and spoke something in the elvish tongue that Mats couldn’t hear well enough to translate. A gentle breeze seemed to leap from the elf’s words and the next thing Mats realized was at last, there was a a sound besides his footsteps.

It was the sound of a river.

\---

In the centuries that followed the Iron Age, as humans expanded and began to enjoy the comforts of their new land, they also sought adventure beyond their boarders. So long as they were friendly with the elven kind then they came to no ill end. Long did they travel across the south, both into the forest and out of it. Few ever turned north into the desert because the paths to the south and the west were far easier and less dangerous.

Just past the first few hills of the Western Mountains on the Western Road, they found a small valley that was fertile enough for a few farms and, later they realized, the lushness of the grass for their cattle and other livestock. With the old elven king’s permission, they made a settlement there where they stayed in relative comfort and prosperity throughout the dawns of the new age. Hidden from the travellers north behind the valley, they remained unseen for the large part, apart from those who knew where their town was or needed shelter there.

On the day the dragon came, the day grew silent as if it was waiting for something. There was no wind, no rain, nothing to signal any oncoming threat. It appeared as if the world around them had inhaled deeply just before a storm would come. Then they heard it. It sounded like the winds of a winter’s blizzard, howling in the distance as it grew louder. Then came the rumble that sounded like thunder, but it was too rhythmic and even to be the chaotic clap of thunder.

The villagers came out and looked to the sky at the strangeness of such a sound, wind whipping their hair and clothes as it did so. They didn’t see anything, but the rumbles grew louder. The cries of their livestock grew intensely as if they sensed something’s arrival. Then the dark shadow passed overhead and they could not believe their eyes.

Some tried to flee, others tried to get onto their horses and leave, many ran towards the south and the sheltered arms of the forest that was half a league away. The dragon’s strength and speed was no match for them, however, as he opened his jaws and released a coil of fire from his mouth. The village quickly began to burn, the wind of the dragon’s wings caused it to spread quickly from one thatched roof to the next, until the entire village was on fire. Meanwhile, the dragon snatched at some of the livestock, maiming large portions of it and some he even kept clutched in his talons to return home with for his dinner.

Like Avenore, the screams of the innocent were lost to the beast as the flames continued to stir from him until the hills were bathed in red flame and no one was left to explain what had happened.

\---

“I wonder if they have arrived at Avenore yet.” Jürgen asked Joachim as he overlooked the sparring of young soldiers. “I know it is quite the journey away from here.”

“Perhaps they have.” Joachim shrugged and he watched his king instead of the soliders. He wondered when Jürgen was going to address the issue that they had been speaking about earlier. It appeared as though he wasn’t going to. “Jürgen, we have to talk about—”

The King raised his hand and Joachim instantly drew quiet. He looked over at his friend, weariness in his blue eyes that Joachim didn’t like to see, and had never truly seen the depths of before.

“I know. But now is not the time for that.” Joachim nodded slowly and Jürgen turned back to his fledgling protectors. “Have you ever been to the west, Jogi?”

“Not really, sire. I remember when we were boys and got as far as Véirl, but that is as far as I have travelled, I believe.” Joachim replied after a moment’s thought.

“I want to see the mountains again before I die.” Jürgen said quietly and Joachim’s attention refreshed on his friend.

“There will be many more years before we have to worry about that.” Joachim replied firmly. Jürgen smiled a little, but Joachim couldn’t see it.

The rumor of a traitor that meant to kill him had stirred just that morning. A secret ghost that walked in the halls of his castle that he didn’t know where it had come from. A great betrayer, he was called, whoever this would-be assassin. Jürgen would normally pay no attention to such rumors, but with Thomas gone, his guard was raised since he had no other distractions. Perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps they could find this ghost before Thomas returned and the boy’s cheer would distract him again.

\---

Lukas was the first to wake and he was the first to notice that something was very off indeed. For a start, he was not holding Bastian’s hand, or any part of Bastian, like he normally would be any time they slept in near proximity to one another. Secondly, he had woken up not in a forest, which he was very acutely aware that is where he had fallen asleep. Thirdly, and rather more alarmingly importantly, he woke up not alone. Oh, Bastian was there of course, but they weren’t alone.

Lukas’ eyes widened as he looked into the face of the most beautiful lady he’d ever seen. His eyes couldn’t possibly have gotten wider when he saw her pointed ears and the slight shimmer that her mere presence exuded. Her eyes were like a crystal clear spring reflecting the sky and he couldn’t help but stare.

Not even the sound of Bastian rousing somewhere to his right could make him look away from her face. Her features remained non-expressive and Lukas swallowed hard.

“Lukas?” Bastian replied sleepily and reached his hand out for his to grab hold of. Instead, he touched the cool smooth skin of the elf. Startled, he looked up and saw who he had touched and, like Lukas, his eyes widened as he sat up quickly with a start.

“Where are we?” Bastian looked to Lukas for the answers. Still dazed, Lukas shook his head.

“I have no idea.”

The elven lady stood after a moment of being seated near their side. She was taller than human women, they both noticed absently, and she looked to the door of their very comfortable room. They only had to wait half a heartbeat before Miroslav was standing in the doorway. They conversed for a moment in a language that neither Lukas or Bastian understood and the woman left at once.

“Miro, where are we?” Lukas asked after his trance seemed to wear off.

Miro smiled and looked between both of them, happy that they had been brought together and not separated.

“We are in the Brundagir at one of the home of the elves Wake yourselves up boys, breakfast awaits you, and there is news.” Miro turned to go when Bastian asked.

“What sort of news?” The look on the wizard’s face had not been pleasant, as if something painful had happened. Had one of their company gotten ill or worse? And how exactly had they ended up in the elven city that was many miles to the north of where they had intended to be? How had he and Lukas not even realized they moved?

Miro’s shoulders appeared to tense as he looked at the two boys again. With great reluctance, the man in front of them let out a low, long breath.

“The dragon has destroyed another city to the south. We shall have to travel faster than I previously thought.”

Lukas and Bastian shared a look as their companion left them and they swallowed hard. Bastian had almost forgotten that there was, indeed, a dragon that they were going to see. And now if they had to travel faster to find it, Bastian was, for the first time, almost wishing he had stayed home.


	9. The Hidden City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More soon, yay extra day off from work \0/ Enjoy :)

Marco had seen elves before, of course he had. He had travelled extensively in his country, researched many things. He even knew a few words of their language, but not enough to converse properly. He could say the simple things such as asking about one’s well-being and to indicate if he was hungry. He could ask where the way to the bathroom was, but little else. Useless really, when you were staring at a group of pointy-eared ‘hosts’ that looked as if they wanted to do you more harm than good.

As Master of the Guard, he felt poorly equipped indeed.

He had woken that morning with the point of an arrowhead across his chest and a roughly translated word he understood to be ‘come’ was given him. It was no request, just a simple order that the elven folk tempted him to refuse. He hadn’t been that stupid. He’d followed them here without his supplies; they had brought his pony, he thought. He couldn’t be sure since he’d left it behind but he thought he had heard its whinny from behind him on the trek through the woods into the elven kingdom. He hadn’t dared turn around to look and see.

He hadn’t seen the pirate or anyone else though he had wondered about their surroundings and locations. He couldn’t have been the only one the elves took. Promising himself to remain calm, Marco complied with his captors’ demands as he was led underneath the boughs of the trees and the terrain started to climb upwards, the spindly fingers of the Western Mountains coming for him. Silence was all around, not even the birds could be heard singing any more. Marco was grateful, at least, for the fact that it was light enough he could still see in front of him. It made the trek that much easier, at least.

They did not bind him in chains or ropes; they simply assumed he would follow them, which he was. He had heard rumors of tales of what happened to those that tried to escape in the woods and get away from the elves. He had heard the tales and assumed that Miroslav and even the pirate had and that’s why both of them appeared to be wary of going into the heart of the Brundagir. He had favored the Northern road because it was shorter, and weren’t they in a hurry to get where they were going? Besides, to the North there were no elves. It didn’t matter now. They were delayed and there were most certainly elves for company.

The elves took him through the forest where the land grew increasingly steeper in incline and Marco’s legs began to burn with the exertion of walking so far. He wasn’t quite sure how far he’d gone either. The elves appeared calm and collected throughout. Marco didn’t even see any sweat forming on their brows. They rounded a corner in the road and finally the lead elf, who Marco had deemed ‘Pointy’, stopped the group and moved over to a rock, where he placed his hand upon it. Marco’s knowledge of elvish, which he found now to be quite useless, was no help in determining what it was that Pointy had said.

Little did it matter though, because at that moment, the forest that had been strangely silent where no wind nor breeze or birdsong could penetrate it was flooded with the sound of a roaring ocean at some distance away and Marco thought he distinctly could smell the salt from the sea.

\---

Miroslav stood at the carved-stone rail of the elven chief’s palace that stretched along the cliff face of the Indéne coast. The sound of the sea hitting the rocks below was a constant reminder of his location of the Hidden City. He hadn’t meant to lead the group this far south, but alas, they had been found by the eleven folk. He didn’t mind. For a while he could let themselves enjoy the comfort of a warm bed and hot few meals before they headed into the forest and up the mountains to find the ruined village the dragon had most recently destroyed.

The elves did not consider their home in the Hidden City to be that of a palace, though most humans and otherkind would consider it one of the finest they had ever seen. The city was carved into the white rocks on the Indénese coast above the sea and the palace itself was woven into the rocks just as well, but it stretched over the natural arch that the sea had carved out Ages ago and came to rest on the other side of the bank, where it would slope down and disappear into the eastern part of the forest.

Many bridges richly adorned stretched from the palace to the ground, or wove into the rocks to lead to the sea. The elves had boats carved from the trunks of the pines or beeches and they used them to fish or go sailing across the sea to the islands, the north, or elsewhere. The elves were not afraid of the sea, but they did not often venture to other lands.

As great as the beauty of it was, Miroslav could not let himself be distracted from the darkness of his thoughts. With every village the dragon attacked, Miro had learned there had been two others, the less likely it would be that the dragon would hear them out and change its course of destruction to go elsewhere. Something else bothered him as well, but he refused to let the possibility of _that_ come to the fruition of a thought. If what he feared about the dragon were true, then others would be in far greater danger. The whole kingdom may be at risk, then.

Miro’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices, the ones he recognized, and he turned to face the astonished faces of Lukas and Bastian. He still hadn’t identified who or what they were or what secrets their genealogy may uncover, but he had sent word back to the castle to his favorite of the students that learned magic from him, Tobias, to look into it.

“Miro, where are we?” Lukas asked again as he moved closer to the large courtyard and balcony that overlooked the sea and the rocky slope of the coast that not even the forest could claim. Bastian looked interested in his answer also, so Miro obliged.

“The Hidden City of Indéne is its official name. The elves call it home for a good majority of them.” Miro turned to the forest, as did the two boys, when a commotion was heard coming from the forest road. Miro relaxed a little when he saw that their final guest, the Master of the Guard, was joining them at last.

“Will you please tell me what’s going on here?” Marco asked him as his arms crossed over his chest. He looked very put out indeed.

“To what do you refer? We are guests here.” Miro replied easily enough, bowing his thanks to the small group of elven guard that had brought him.

“ _He thinks we meant him harm, Great One,_ ” the leader of the company, which Miro knew to be called Stefan, spoke to him and appeared amused as he did so. Miroslav smiled slightly, but hid it quickly when he turned back to Marco.

“No one will harm you, sir. Let us have breakfast.” Miro motioned to the table that had been set up and the two boys went over quickly enough, though they kept their eyes on the elvish company that had not yet departed. Marco was less eager to join but an empty stomach and weariness from a long walk brought him to the table where he sank down on one of the benches and kept a close-watch on Pointy.

“Where are the others?” He asked gruffly, speaking a little louder than usual due to the closeness of the ocean’s roar. Bastian and Lukas looked at their leader also waiting for a response.

Miroslav made himself a small plate of the offerings on the table and remained calm as he answered, beginning his breakfast as if appearing in a hidden city was a normal, every day occurrence for himself.

“I believe that Masters Neuer and Thomas have dispersed themselves through the city somewhere, likely they too are breaking their fast with the elves. And our dubious friend, Mats, is likely somewhere on the coast playing with a boat, I would expect. He does love the water more than the land, it seems.”

Marco ignored him as he helped himself to a freshly baked roll. He didn’t bother to dress it with honey or butter, but simply stuffed it into his face because the pangs of his hunger reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in many hours.

\---

Thomas walked along one of the bridges that led away from the palace of the chief of this particular branch of the elves. The further down the bridge he got, the more and more damp he became because the spray of the sea was nearer to him and the rocks they repeatedly crashed against was getting closer. Finally, he reached the bottom of the bridge that rested on a flat rock, grown slippery with seawater and it was damp. He could move to the edge of the rock and take a step down and be in the sea if he wanted. It was fascinating; he’d never been to the ocean before.

Thomas was considering doing just that when he heard the elves above his head. They were singing, though he wasn’t one-hundred percent able to follow the song. He looked up at the bridge that ran parallel to the one he had just stepped off of and saw a slow progression of elves, shimmering in the light of the sun underneath the overcast day, as they headed towards the palace. He was entranced by them, even if he didn’t know what they were saying.

“They sing for rain,” a voice told him and Thomas looked over to his right to find the speaker. It was Mats and he was walking beside Manuel. Mats tossed an apple in his hand as he approached.

“Why would they need rain?” Thomas asked, seeing no sign of drought.

“To quell the fires of the beast, of course.” Manuel replied with a shrug as he handed Thomas an apple for his own. Thomas nodded, of course. Even the elves would not like to face a dragon if they could help it.

The sound of the sea was loud, so Thomas moved closer. It was good that he did so, because the topic of conversation he wished to present was not one he wanted to fall upon the wrong ears.

“Do the elves say what they are going to do if the dragon attacks one of their own villages?” Thomas asked, looking between both.

Mats shook his head and bit into his apple. “I have heard nothing.”

Manuel nodded slowly. “They are going to—“

“Manuel?” A voice interrupted them. A voice that was more fair, more sweet than any human could possess. “Manuel! _It is you!_ ”

An unknown emotion crossed Manuel’s face as he turned to address the speaker. Thomas couldn’t quite place it, but he appeared sad; Thomas didn’t know why. The speaker was an elf that was just slightly taller than Manuel himself. Thomas grew even more surprised when the elf pulled Manuel in for a hug. He was about to fall over in shock when Manuel hugged him back. The elf spoke too quickly for him to understand, but Manuel had no trouble as they conversed between one another.

Lost, Thomas looked to Mats for a translation.

The pirate watched the two with a growing expression of curiosity that changed to sympathy and back to acceptance, with the slight look that someone gets when they find a suspicion to be true. Mats moved nearer to the king’s nephew and finished his apple before he tossed the core into the sea.

“They know one another.” Mats started and Thomas rolled his eyes before he could finish.

“Yes, I realized that. Would you care to tell me how that is so?” He crossed his arms and looked at the pirate. Mats’ eyes rolled as he jerked lightly on the tunic that the heir to the kingdom was wearing.

“They are brothers.” Mats replied after a moment and Thomas’ eyes widened before looking quickly to the two that were still talking. Mats raised an eyebrow at his reaction. “You do not know the story of your friend’s life? What kind of friend does that make you?”

Thomas felt the sting in his pride at that remark and looked at Mats as if he had no right to question what he did or did not know of his friends’ lives.

“What kind of person does it make you to have no where to call home?” He asked sharply, his pride stung so he tried to lash out. Mats’ expression did not even darken at the insult, though surely he felt it. Truth in words can sting, and Mats felt the brunt of it at that moment.

“If you wish to know the rest between your friend and his brother, then you can ask him yourself, _sire_ for I have no desire to translate it for you. What kind of heir doesn’t know the language of all the peoples in his kingdom, especially the ones with which he will have the most dealings should anything arise?” Mats shook his head and started up the bridge back towards the palace.

Thomas watched him go and he felt the pang of being wrong and the shame of knowing that a pirate of all people had been right about something. He still had much to learn. Thomas sighed and looked to see that Manuel was still deeply-engrossed in his conversation with his newfound brother. Thomas turned and started up the bridge after Mats, uncaring that that was the way that had had just come from. There would be nothing more for him to do down here right now anyway.


	10. Memory and Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer and you get to find out more about one of the characters in particular. I hope you still like this story (I know Eliza does <3) and please R&R :) More soon to come! This chapter has some feels attached :|

By the time the sun was drawing down behind the rock face that kept the Hidden City away from prying eyes or curious passersby, Thomas had taken up to sharpening his sword with the smiths of the elves. Marco had joined him there as the two worked in silence next to the elvish workers; both of them were impressed with the knowledge and skill that the ironworkers had about them as they spoke magic into the steel to get it to perform as they desired. No matter how hard Marco and Thomas tried, they could not get the same malleability of their own blades, much to the amusement of the elves.

Mats had taken up space for himself in the hall of the chieftain, known in our language as Jens. Mats had grown relaxed and less agitated from his encounter with the nephew of the king thanks in large part to the aid of elvish elderberry wine. He rested in the hall, back to the wall, watching the elves go about their normal duties as if they didn’t care that they had guests. When Mats thought about it, he really supposed they didn’t mind so much at all. What threat could a group of mismatched men be for those as incredible as the elves?

Bastian and Lukas had followed Miroslav wherever he went around the Hidden City, and that included his paying a visit to some of the oldest elves that were still around. Despite their ancient ages, Bastian noticed that none of them appeared to be vastly aged, the most you could tell were a few lines around the eyes, some around the mouth for the more inclined to smile elves. That was all. If they had been human they would have appeared middle-aged. As they went through the halls of the city, Bastian came to realize more and more that this was no mere man that was leading their company. He was important. He could tell from the respect that the elvenkind were giving him. He could also remember the way that none of the rest of the company argued with him. Bastian made a mental note to discuss it with Lukas later as they continued around with Miroslav leading them.

The only one of the company that had truly mixed with the elves and who hadn’t been seen all afternoon was Manuel. Not that any of the others had gone looking for him, but if they had, they would have found him difficult to find for he had gone with his brother away from the Hidden City and into the forest. They had not travelled far into the Brundagir but enough to give them some privacy from the prying eyes and ears of other elvenkind or the small company that Manuel had found himself in. The sound of the sea was less intense here, but the wind had picked up as it carried over the rock face and dispersed into the trees.

Manuel looked to his brother, whom he had not seen for far longer than he’d care to admit. He had changed little, no lines had begun to form on his face, which was good and more than four centuries away from starting to happen. Manuel briefly wondered a moment if he would be there to see his brother’s age lines begin to form, but he doubted it. He was only half-elven after all; he would not live as long, even if he managed to survive this dragon’s quest.

“About this venture you find yourself on, brother,” Per started and Manuel stopped their walk to face him. “What have you all decided to do when the dragon is before you?”

“Speak to it.” Manuel said simply with a shrug.

“Do you think that will work?” Per asked with a raised eyebrow.

Manuel paused and regarded his brother. He did not know, if he was honest, if it would work. All he could be certain is that they were looking for a dragon that had damaged, at least, four villages now, two more populated than the rest. He had never seen a dragon, only heard of the stories like all the rest had about the beasts from the Iron Age.

“I don’t know. The Wizard is very wise, I trust his judgment completely.” Manuel replied at last, honestly. “What do you know of dragon-fighting Per?”

Per smiled a little as he looked down into his half-brother’s eyes. “Not enough, and yet more than you.”

Manuel shook his head but a smile still lingered on his lips. Per resumed their walk and Manuel followed also. The breeze from the sea ruffled Manuel’s hair and he inhaled deeply, the familiar smell of the salt reminding him of someone most precious. Per watched as he did so and felt a stirring of emotion deep within him.

“You remember her as I do.” Per said softly, “though your memories are more recent than mine.”

Manuel looked at his brother and felt himself grow sheepish and shy again. He never knew how to act during these moments. Always whenever they came up, he was afraid of how Per would react to him, knowing the history between them. Manuel was not ashamed, but felt greatly uncomfortable when his lineage was brought into conversation.

Per noticed and reached out to squeeze Manuel’s shoulder lightly.

“Worry not, brother. I have accepted you and will never ostracize you from your home here. You are my kin.” Per spoke in a kind tone and Manuel nodded, but still felt shy. Since the conversation had begun, he also felt the familiar pang of sadness that always came with the memories long since past.

Manuel went to the edge of the trail and looked through the trees so that he could see the ocean, growing dark as the sun began to fade. The white from the caps of the breakers formed at a distance before they would roll higher and crash into the rocks below. Over and over throughout the ages they had done so and Manuel felt a peace here that he rarely felt anywhere else, not even in Ansieál with his friends and King.

For a few moments Manuel didn’t think of the quest, his friends, the Wizard or even of his brother standing beside him doing the same as he was, watching the waves. He thought nothing of elves or dragons, Kings or Queens, mountains or forest. As he thought back, the howling of the wind and roar of the sea was gone and all he could hear was the quiet, soft gurgle of a spring that he knew rested somewhere in the North. Manuel lost himself in the sound from his memory remembered back to when he was a boy and he was holding the impossibly soft hand of his mother and a few short moments of his life passed him by at a rapid pace.

He was standing on a slippery rock, hand grasped tightly to his mother’s as she was on the rock ahead of him. There was a smile on her face and she smiled brighter as he giggled while trying to step onto the same rock as she without falling into the stream and getting wet. Together they crossed the stream that came down from the Northern Mountains and would flow to one of the lakes beyond their village. The birds sang in the trees and the sound of bees were drowned out by the stream that was still running strong due to the melting ice in the mountains. The seasons had changed life was renewing itself as the sun grew warm and winter’s chill had faded.

Manuel could remember his mother singing to him in the Elven tongue, teaching him words and the tales of her people, as she would have him help her around their land with things that needed tending to. She taught him the magic of herbs and their uses and also the kindness of words to animals to help convince them to do your bidding. She taught him to cook and mend things. At night she would tell him the best stories of their land and he would fall asleep dreaming of things he’d never seen before, heroes long since gone, and most of all the magic of elves. His father would travel to Usher many times throughout the year to trade and get things they needed to keep their farm prospering. It was his father that taught him to hunt and to wield a sword, his human father who had been born in a small village off the Eastern Road.

Several years later though he was still a boy in shape and size despite his two decades of life, the spring still continued to supply water to the lake in the northern hills. Only now, instead of skipping stones or crossing streams, Manuel sat on the bank with a line tossed into the water as he tried to catch dinner. His mother had given him this task as his father was still away in Usher, though he aged as a normal man would and his hair was growing greyer with each trip. Their small cottage rested off the road and away from the towns where only green hills and peaceful valleys remained. Few visitors came to the north, fewer still to the villages and farms there. Manuel found himself at peace when he was at home and looked forward to a long life without interruption in the north.

His dream had been rudely interrupted when the very unkind winter of his twenty-fourth year came to pass. He could remember that day very clearly despite how many wishes he had made in order to forget. The snows were high that year and he could remember the crunch of it underfoot as he came back from the stream where he’d tried to find fish underneath the ice for dinner. He had been unsuccessful and was cursing his luck and cursing the call of the crows all the way back to his home in the hills. The thaw was slow in coming, but the sound of melting snow had just started and it gave him hope that spring would come early. By the time he arrived at his home, he noticed the eerie quiet that had overtaken the valley as the chill bit into his skin. All was quiet, apart from those damnable crows, and he took a deep breath before he started forward into his home.

Manuel knew she had been ill in the days and weeks leading up to that day. He supposed he should have tried harder to find some herbs that could’ve saved her that were buried underneath the snow. He should’ve gone to Usher himself to find a doctor. There were things he could have done, but hadn’t. He didn’t blame himself for her passing, but he wished he had tried more to prevent it. His mother was buried there, in the North, next to the grave of his father in the hills overlooking the lake. That was the year he can’t remember if he ever heard spring’s thaw begin.

The last memory Manuel has of his childhood home in the north before he was sent south to Indéne and his mother’s elven kin is the cold bite of winter’s wind and the sound of crows mocking his mourning. He’d never liked the sound of those birds or the season of winter ever since.

“Manuel?” Per’s voice stirred him from the winter of his childhood and brought him back to the cliffside outside Indéne. He murmured an apology and turned back to Per. “I said we should begin our journey back. It will grow dark before we arrive.”

Manuel nodded and followed his brother back to the Hidden City as he had done many times. If it hadn’t been for Per’s kindness, Manuel would have had nowhere to go when he was still considered a child in the eyes of the elves and in men, despite his age. Per’s family had taken him in, despite the fact that it was Manuel’s mother that had left them in Indéne to marry Manuel’s father. She had been cast out, banished from Indéne, just for the love she had felt for a mortal man.

He resisted a sigh from the heaviness in his heart as he walked across the arched bridge and back into the city.

\---

Miroslav sat next to Jens, who had returned from a scouting party in search of the dragon, at the high table in the hall because the chief called a meeting for all of the elvenkind. Bastian and Lukas were seated together as they stared in awe at the leader of these elves as well as his glorious court. They had been told this was a modest home for an elf, but they still could not quite grasp the grandeur because they had never before seen anything so fine.

They noticed Manuel had returned with an elf and he looked as if he were lost in thought. Marco and Thomas were nearby but they were listening to the speech that Jens was giving about dragons and the destructions of villages, at least that’s what they thought anyway since neither of them spoke a word of Elvish. Mats was eyeing up the elves in the crowd, likely looking for things he could try and steal when no one was watching. Bastian and Lukas, quite unconcerned with the politics of such an affair, were too contentedly leaning into one another and watching at the court spread before their eyes.

“What damages have been done to the lands beyond our realm is not our concern!” One elf in the crowd stated. “It is the problem of the humans because that is all the dragon seems to be concerned with. Three times it has have flown over our villages and three times it has done nothing. It is not after elvenkind.”

Several ‘here, here’s had been given at the man’s words and the chieftain looked between the crowd and the speaker of their sentiments. It was Miroslav that spoke, however, and Bastian was impressed again by the presence in which he commanded a room’s attention.

“And if the dragon, Gods forbid, takes over the realm of humans, who do you think it will come for next? The dwarven lands?” A light chuckled flooded through the crowd at his quip while others began to voice their displeasure at the truth in his words.

“What would you have us do then, Wizard?” The same elf who spoke earlier asked him. “Fight it or converse with it as you would do?”

“I would have you do nothing, yet. Let myself and my party attempt communication with it. Should we fail, then we will have to take more direct actions, yes.” Miroslav looked at the speaker alone and did not turn his attentions away. “I would not provoke it, but nor can you sit idle. Set your smiths to work to begin preparing for battle, just in case.”

Bastian looked around the room as the expressions on the elves’ faces grew increasingly tense. He wasn’t sure what had transpired, only that it couldn’t have been good because now everyone appeared to be on edge. After several moments of silence, Jens stood and spoke to the crowd again.

“The smiths will work and ready themselves in the event we are needed.” Jens then turned to Miro and spoke softer. “But we will allow you your conversation with our scaled friend to the north. You will leave us in our peace, however.”

Miro looked unhappy but he nodded. “As you will have it, sir.”

Appeased, the crowd eased back and appeared to be dispersing. Bastian looked to Thomas and Marco and saw they didn’t look quite happy about the turn of events.

“What is it? What happened?” Lukas and Bastian asked in tandem.

“The elves won’t arm themselves to fight the dragon, but they will let us go on to speak with it.” Marco replied, as Thomas looked into the fire in the great fireplace that was in the center of the room. 

“That’s good isn’t it? Didn’t we only want to speak to it?” Lukas asked. Thomas looked over at him then.

“It is good, until the dragon won’t listen to reason and decides to attack us. Then we could use elven arms for support.” Thomas spoke dryly and Lukas frowned in thought.

Miroslav made his way over to both of them, a grim look on his face but he stayed in their presence without saying a word. Bastian noticed the way Thomas was watching their leader, as if he admired him yet was worried about decisions that Miro was leading them into. Bastian didn’t really blame Thomas for looking apprehensive.

Manuel arrived from somewhere in the crowd and stood behind Lukas as he looked over the company.

“Are we leaving in the morning then?” He asked and Miro nodded.

“Yes. Jens has been kind to give us supplies and a small escort to the road to Morland. We will leave after breakfast.”

Manuel nodded and then excused himself again. Thomas looked as if he wanted to go after his friend but thought better of it, having remembered what Mats said about his brother earlier. Thomas looked to Miroslav and the older man seemed to nod in understanding, an unspoken conversation moved between them and Thomas left the group with his regards.

Lukas watched the second in command of the company leave and then turned back to Miroslav.

“So, what story are you going to tell us tonight?” He grinned causing Miro to laugh softly, despite his worried mind. He ruffled Lukas’ hair lightly and leaned back in a large chair that had been brought to the table.

“I suppose I could tell you about the Elven princesses of long ago, if you care for fairy stories…” He started and both Lukas and Bastian nodded quickly.

Even though Marco rolled his eyes and scoffed about ‘fairy stories’, he found himself listening as the wizard began another tale.


	11. The Ruins of Morland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who continues to read this madness. I really appreciate it ♥ For this chapter some stuff gets pretty real. **Warning: Character death.**

Per and a small group of other horsemen led the company north away from Indéne and back through the forest. For a brief spell they were on the Southern Road before they turned off to cut through the forest on an elven trail. Marco thought it was nice of them to let them ride the ponies out of the forest instead of walking this time.

Light filtered through the trees through gaps in the canopy above, showering the forest with enough light to easily see the trail. Miroslav knew this would not be the case the more northward into the part of the forest that clung to the spine of the mountains; he was especially grateful for the light knowing that. The forest was quiet but every so often a small sparrow’s song could echo across the emptiness of the trees to mingle with the sound of horses and snapping twigs in the underbrush. It was a distant sound, but it brought a small taste of comfort to the group as they moved through the trees.

Soon they arrived in a clearing where light was strongly coming through the trees and even the birds had grown louder. Per stopped and looked at Stefan, who nodded, and Per turned to face Miroslav.

“ _Great One, by order of our master, Jens, this is as far as we can travel with you. We wish you all the luck we can offer._ ” Miro bowed his head in gratitude which Per mirrored. Per then turned to his brother and gave him a small smile. “ _And I wish you all the best, dear brother._

Per placed his arm over his chest, over his heart, and bowed respectfully again. Manuel repeated the gesture and gave a small smile. He said his thanks and they made a promise to one another to see each other again soon, and for longer, and Manuel was the one that led the company off the elven trial and back onto the Western Road.

As the company continued down the road, it wound out and away from the forest, crossing the barren Fells of Olmas. Before them, the mountains grew tall and the ground became rockier; the peaks of the highest mountains were covered in eternal snow that never melted. They crossed the moor and headed for the hills that grew sparse with the underbrush that had stretched across the moorland.

At a certain point in the moorland, Miro led them off of the road completely as it stayed and wound its way more northward. The company then rode along the hills. The higher they climbed on horseback, the quieter everyone became, for as they drew nearer the top of the largest hill, the sight of grey smoke climbed into the sky and the sound of the wind grew ever shriller.

Miroslav stopped the company on top of that hill so that he could look down into the valley below. The wind howled as it crested the hills and surged into the valley unhindered below. As soon as there was a break in the wind, long enough for it to pause and take a breath, they could smell the destruction that awaited them, though they could not yet see it. It was the smell of burning wood and, more dishearteningly, death.

Miroslav led the company down the winding trail that led into the valley and the smell grew stronger. The ponies began to become unsettled and Bastian held a little tighter to Lukas’ hand. The sound of sizzling embers mixed with the wind until it grew to be the only sound there was. Miroslav stopped them as soon as they reached the main street, or what it used to be, and looked to see the smoldering ruins of the great trading town of Morland. Nothing was left of it apart from the scorched shell that continued to sizzle and pop five days after the fact.

Thomas was the first to get off his horse to take a look around. He had drawn his shirt up over his nose to protect himself from the stench around the group.

“See if there are any survivors.” He ordered though the others looked reluctant to carry out his request. Grudgingly, Mats and Marco dismounted, followed by the others to do as he asked. Miroslav shook his head and he looked at Thomas.

“There are none.” He met the boy’s blue eyes, causing the others to pause.

“Look anyway.” He ordered the others and moved to stand next to Miroslav where he remained on his horse. He waited for the others to disperse before he spoke to Miroslav. “Subjects to my Uncle’s crown have been slain. I cannot ignore this fact and it was at the dragon’s doing. The great serpent will have to die. I will have no choice.”

Miroslav easily met the boy’s eyes where the wisdom of hundreds upon hundreds of years rested in his own expression. “There are worse things in this world than dragons, Sire.”

“Such as?” The boy asked, not looking away from the wizard’s gaze. Miroslav replied easily enough, though his words sent a shiver down Thomas’ spine.

“Someone who would wish to have a dragon at their behest.” 

The implications of his words faded on the wind as a call came from the other side of the valley. Miro looked over and saw Marco leading an unknown man on horseback to them. He frowned but then broke into a smile when he recognized the rider. He dismounted and was on level ground by the time Marco and the newcomer arrived. At the sound of the call, the others started to wander back over to where everyone converged just inside the town. Thomas recognized the rider also and received a bow once the man had arrived and dismounted. 

However, instead of rising, the man stayed down on bended knee and when he spoke, he addressed Thomas alone instead of his master.

“My Lord, I bring you grave news.” The rider spoke and Miroslav frowned at the formality of the title.

“What is it?” Thomas asked when he realized the messenger was speaking to himself instead of Miroslav. “Rise and face me, Tobias.”

Tobias Schweinsteiger complied and faced Thomas at the same time a look of great sadness and urgency crossed his face.

“My Lord, forgive me to bring you this news, but you needed to be informed at once. I’ve ridden for four straight days from Ansieál looking for you. I thought I’d have to get to Dille before I found you! I’m so relieved to have found you here, though I do apologize for the tidings of my visit.” Tobias’ words slipped forward like an avalanche began. Thomas frowned and waited for him to collect himself, when that didn’t happen, he interrupted.

“Tobias, just tell me what is so important, if you’d please.”

Jarred into his senses, Tobias blurted it out. “Of course, Sire. My apologies. I came to tell you the King is dead.”

Thomas and the others stared at him, disbelief on all of their faces. Even Marco was temporarily speechless.

“How? When?” Miroslav asked, a deep-set frown on his face.

Tobias took a deep breath and looked at the wizard, his master. “Five days past. He just grew ill and died sometime in the night. Joachim is investigating it. I was sent to find you straight away, sire.” He turned to face Thomas then. “I was sent to find you and return you at once to Ansieál to be crowned our new sovereign and to mourn our King.”

Thomas remained dumbstruck as the weight of Tobias’ words fell on his ears. He leaned heavily against Miroslav’s horse and the wizard absently put a comforting hand on Thomas’ shoulder. He didn’t realize before how much he needed that until then. It was good that he was there, Thomas thought in the distant part of his mind that still could maintain possession of some bit of rationality, because he could ask the necessary questions while Thomas processed the news.

“Who dispatched you?” Miroslav asked with a thinly veiled interrogative tone.

“Joachim, of course.” Tobias replied honestly and looked into his master’s eyes. They shared a silent, telepathic conversation from that moment so not to disturb Thomas’ grieving. It was a bond that few could perform, fewer still could maintain. But Miroslav was well versed in magic and Tobias had been his pupil for many years.

‘ _What of the dragon?_ ’ Miro asked him, reading his expression and his thoughts while guarding his own.

‘ _Joachim says you are to disband your search for it and return home at once for the funeral of the King. He expressed his displeasure if you delayed or maintained your course and considered it inappropriate given the circumstances._ ’

Miro kept to his private thoughts for a moment before resuming the connection with his protégé.

‘ _What happened? Was he murdered or was it truly an illness that swept him away so swiftly?_ ’

Tobias did not react on the outside but Miroslav could feel his apprehension and wariness of all things in the castle. ‘ _A rumor started a couple weeks after you left, a rumor about the king. Someone wanted him dead and had told everyone that they were going to assassinate him. The only thing is no one knows who started them. Every time there is a lead, it becomes a shadow and fades into the ether. No one has any proof it wasn’t an illness, but nor can they prove it was poisoning or something else nefarious either._ ’

Miroslav’s frown deepened at this news. ‘ _What do you think, Tobias?_ ’

Tobias let out a long breath before he seemed to work up enough courage to speak again. ‘ _I think he was murdered, but I, like the others, cannot prove it, my Lord._ ’

Miroslav nodded and squeezed Thomas’ shoulder again as he came out of the trance with Tobias. Aloud, he spoke to the company and to Tobias.

“Tobias, are you not pleased to see someone?” Miroslav asked, indicating Bastian who had been trying to get the messenger’s attention since he had arrived. Tobias looked straight at Bastian before he blinked several times. Finally, after some moments, he came out of his stupor and smiled slightly.

“Brother, it’s nice to see you after all this time. Though, I wish the circumstances were different.” Bastian, who had initially frowned upon not being recognized, warily nodded his return as he regarded his brother with confusion. Lukas loosened his hold on Bastian’s hand go so that he could move over and hug his brother, which Bastian only did after Lukas had squeezed it.

Miroslav filed the moment away for further contemplation when he looked to Thomas. He had an uneasy feeling about this place, as if they were not safe, even after the dragon had left behind nothing but a ruin since he had gone.

“Will you come?” Tobias asked Thomas as he turned back to the newly appointed king.

Thomas swallowed hard, still lost in the sadness of knowing his most beloved uncle and the man who had been like a father to him was forever gone to this world. He nodded slowly after he squared his jaw and shoulders. He was the lord and master of this land now; there was no time for sniffling.

Miroslav shifted his weight as he came to attention and looked at the new king.

“Allow me to give you my unsolicited counsel, sire.” Miroslav started and Thomas nodded once before the wizard continued. “I do not think you should go back just yet.” Thomas looked as if he was going to argue, his brow furrowed and his mouth turned into to a grim line, but Miroslav continued quickly. “Think about it. Think about the facts. Allow Joachim to maintain control of the country for a while longer, let him believe that Tobias had trouble finding us and that we could not be found immediately. That isn’t that hard to believe.”

“Why would I wait?” Thomas asked with a frown. Miroslav had forgotten that the facts of which he spoke only he and Tobias were privy to. He changed his strategy.

“Let us say that an ill wind or malevolent person harmed your Uncle, our King. Let us just say for a few moments that is what truly happened. If one unknown assailant can harm our great King, what could they do to you who is unknowing of the truth? They could do you great harm and you would not even know it, Thomas.” Miroslav spoke his name lightly, looking into his eyes and begging him to listen and not act rashly. “Trust me to help you. Let us continue north and speak to this dragon as your uncle wanted. Then we can make great haste home and see to what end befell him.”

“Why would someone harm him?” He asked, expression still set in a frown.

“Tobias?” Miroslav gestured to the messenger and then back at the new king.

Tobias cleared his throat and straightened a little when he repeated the part he’d told Miroslav about the rumors of an assassin to the king. Due to their connection, he remained mum on his true thoughts of the king’s death and the dragon’s quest.

Thomas stood and waited, in thought, as he considered what Miroslav had said and the facts as had been presented by Tobias. The wind had not lessened as it stirred everything loose it could grasp, hair, shirts, supplies. It drew the items into a dance and refused to let it go. The roar of it came so loud it seemed to drown out the cracks and pops of the embers.

After a great long wait, Thomas finally looked to Mats in the company. “What would you do, pirate?”

Confused as to why his opinion mattered in something so evidently not his business or concern, Mats blinked before a smartass answer came from his mouth, delivered with cheek and a smirk. “You know me, Sire. Anything where there’s no responsibility sounds like a good time to me.”

Marco opened his mouth to retort, but Manuel nudged him. The two shared a glare, a brief contest that Manuel won, before they both returned to Thomas and awaited his decision.

“Very well. I shall do as you ask,” Thomas replied looking at Miro with trusting eyes. With great relief, Miro bowed his head while the others followed suit only on their knees. “We shall continue on our quest to find this dragon. And you shall join us for a while, Tobias.”

Bastian looked happy at the news, though he was too busy smiling at the ground because he hadn’t raised his head yet. Tobias said nothing and Miro watched both brothers before he looked back to Thomas with a grateful look on his face. Thomas didn’t appear to acknowledge Miro’s look before he looked to the tops of the hills of the valley and let out a long breath.

And so it was there, in the Fells of Olmas in the burning ruin of Morland, that the new king of Antiá was crowned with his most faithful companions in his presence.


	12. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter. Oh geeze this chapter. Holy freaking crap. If you must know, I scared the BUHJAYSUS out of myself while writing it. Mainly cause I was listening to [this at the time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qM_DBdh0P48) which I totally recommend you do also because you should also be scared crapless while reading a certain part of this chapter.
> 
> Beyond that... I have more notes at the end. But listen to that song. And then read away. I hope it's as scary as I'm hyping it up to be. I really did scare myself XD

It was under the strictest orders from Miroslav that only the smallest of campfires was to be used throughout the night as they continued to travel north and he absolutely refused that they travel at night. It was due to this non-argumentative order that had slowed their progress and had rendered them reduced to only several miles a day instead of twenty or more. Of course, by this point they had climbed high into the mountains and all signs of grasses and greenery had given way to the harshness of cold and gray stone. Snow lingered in the shadows and ice covered the peaks of the mountains that somehow still had enough presence to stretch high into the sky.

Miroslav had specifically set out rules that some of them found a bit ridiculous, but no one dared argue against the wizard’s vast wisdom. The man insisted that not only could they no longer travel at night, but they had to find shelter and have it thoroughly searched for any possible signs of the Dark Magic before he would allow them to actually rest there. If he found any trace of the old magic, he would shake his head and order them on their way to find another suitable place. Since the wars of the Iron Age had spread all across Antiá, finding a place to rest without the touch of Dark Magic proved to be difficult indeed.

In addition to the preciseness of their campfires and where they could bed down for the night, Miroslav forbade any talking two hours after sunset. He restricted who kept watch to only himself, Tobias, or Manuel throughout the night. He had allowed them to speak but only in quiet tones and soft whispers, even when the sun was out. During the day, he would allow few breaks, though they would stop plenty of times for multiple reasons such as the ponies were having a hard time with the rocks underfoot and the need to scout out a new trail. The most important reason for stopping, however, was when Miroslav needed to look for a clue as to where the dragon could be found.

After two and a half days of such behavior, Marco had had enough.

They had stopped near a small stream that was running down the glacier-capped peak above their head all the way down the rocks to form a small pool at the base of the cliff they were currently resting at. Miroslav was checking the rocks for any sign of disturbance, a practice he had done countless times over the past few days, much to the confusion of the rest of the company.

“Four times we’ve stopped today. We’ve not made it far at all. In fact, I’m fairly sure I can see our old campsite from here. Tell me, Miro, what is the reasoning for all these delays?” Marco asked and he stood in an agitated stance with his arms crossed over his chest.

Miro merely made a grunt in acknowledgement before Tobias, who had come along for this part of their journey much to Bastian’s delight and the annoyance of Marco who felt this company was turning into quite the party, faced the Master of the Guard and answered his question.

“There are many things in these mountains, Master Guardsman. My master is making sure we have safe passage to and from where we need to go.” Tobias tried to be helpful. Marco merely made a mocking face before he huffed out a sigh and overlooked the cliff’s edge and into the abyss below.

They were at such a high altitude now that the clouds were beginning to be level with their path and the plains below were getting harder to see, partly due to the sheer drops that only the bravest could overlook without feeling like they would fall over and the rest was in part to the fact that some straggly pines dared to cling on to the mountains and obscure the view, though they were few and getting fewer still.

“I see nothing out there.” Marco replied, tone increasing a little from aggravation before he looked back to Tobias and Miroslav. “There’s nothing out there old man! You just want us to delay being eaten by a dragon as long as possible, which I’m grateful for, but Thomas needs to get back and—”

“Silence!” Miroslav replied as harshly as he could despite the fact he was trying to also be quiet at the same time. He rounded on Marco and advanced quickly, backing him near the ledge of the rock face. “If you bring the darkness down upon us, so help me Marco Reus!”

“There’s noting there!” Marco returned and was acutely aware of how close he was to the edge.

“That you can _see_ ,” Miro returned sharply, eyes flashing and his tone hardened. At his next words, everyone shuffled a little closer as the shivers began to run down their spines and the hairs on their arms stood up. His tone quieted but the others could still here him. “A thousand meters off my left shoulder and slightly to the left, what can you see Guardsman? What about four hundred meters to the right from that point? Eight hundred meters behind us? Two hundred in front of us?”

Marco glanced over to the places where the Wizard had indicated but he could see nothing apart from the whiteness of snow every time. He looked back to Miro and shook his head. The wizard’s eyes shown bright and clear, though he looked more aggravated and irritated than Marco had ever seen him. He felt the cold all over his body, and it wasn’t just from the chill in the air. Quietly, Miroslav spoke again, this time he leaned closer to Marco and his breath was the only thing warm about what he had to say.

“Don’t draw attention to us when there are creatures from the Otherlands who can hear, and eat, us without a second thought. If you care to live to see this giant serpent, you will take great care not to get us all killed.” Miroslav took a step back and addressed the entire group. “You will all trust me, it’s imperative that I have your complete trust.”

The group nodded, some more quicker than others. Marco was the last, but he acquiesced at last. Miro nodded and moved back over to study his rocks.

Bastian moved slightly closer to Lukas and looked fearfully at Manuel and Tobias.

“What is in all those places he mentioned?” Bastian whispered. Lukas held his hand tightly while both shivered from the coldness in the air.

Tobias and Manuel shared a look that questioned on whether or not they wanted to share, but Tobias shrugged and allowed Manuel to supply the answer. He licked his lips for a moment before he moved slightly closer and looked as if he was adjusting the pack on the pony he had been riding before this break.

“We are surrounded by orks, they are hiding well in the snow but they keep a close eye on us. They have been following us since we crossed the Last River and headed up into the mountains properly.”

The revelation that they had been followed by a group of orks fover over a day did not go over well with the company, especially Marco and Thomas. The new King went straight away to Miroslav but was stopped by a hesitant Manuel with only a simple ‘let him work’ as an excuse. Thomas huffed but did allow the wizard some space and glared at Marco who thought to interrupt him.

Mats kept a closer eye on his sword after that, just as Bastian kept his arrows nearer to him than he had before. Lukas was only armed with a small dagger, but he was skilled with it, having won many a competition back in their village at home.

After another long delay, Miro finally turned from the rocks and started to mount his horse. The others followed suit, eager to be moving again after the revelation of their unfriendly shadow. Miro did not immediately set off from the spot where they were on the cliff, causing Marco to look around now that he knew what he was looking for. He was subtle about it, he was a career soldier after all, and he saw that the ork that had been ahead of them, had moved off a little but was still close by. It was so close that they would likely have to pass it before they could get away and back down the trail. He didn’t like being on a cliff with only two ways to go, both of which had a monster as a guard on either end.

Miroslav breathed in deeply and closed his eyes before he would allow any of them to move. After a moment, he finally opened his eyes and the sound of a low rumble started in the distance. It was then that the entire company watched as an avalanche began behind them and rumbled down the hill that they had passed earlier that day. This scared the orks and they disbanded from their pursuit of the party. Relief went through the group and Miroslav opened his eyes.

“They will return. Let us be quick before they do.”

The others agreed and they followed the wizard away from the snowfall and the cliff face.

\--

That night there was no campfire. Miro had wanted to make it harder for the group of orks to find the company. They had found another point of shelter; long ago the mountain had shifted with the ground and had almost leaned against the peak next to it, leaving a small alcove big enough for them and their ponies to rest comfortably in the night. Regardless of their shelter, the entire group slept with their backs against the rocks just to make sure nothing could sneak up on them, just as Miroslav had ordered.

Manuel took the first watch, from sundown to midnight. Tobias, the second and the one that carried through the witching hour.

It was at that hour when the wind came.

It started softly, like a whisper in the night, but it grew. In the darkness that surrounded them, Tobias listened intently as the whisper began to grow harsh before it became a moan that seemed to carry so loudly, echoing off the rocks and vibrating the air around him. He strained his eyes to see something, anything that would cause the sound, because no breeze dared touch his skin. The roar in his ears had faded until it was only the sound of the wind, screaming around him. He didn’t know how the others could not hear it, how could they stand such noise and stay asleep?

Despite himself, fear began to rise high in his blood and Tobias tried desperately to calm himself down but the more he tried, the more afraid he became. Then something jumped onto his back, that was the only way he could describe the heavy weight that suddenly latched itself to him and he cried out, loudly, before there was a loud ‘swoosh’ sound and the weight disappeared. Panic raced through him and he breathed heavily.

From the darkness came a light, blue and bright and Tobias squinted at the suddenness of it and he saw that Miroslav was the source, his being and his sword shone bright in the space of the alcove. His eyes darted around quickly, as if he was looking for something, while Tobias breathed heavily still.

“Are you unharmed, Tobias?” Miro asked as he moved to stand protectively in front of him. Tobias nodded. “Good, then get against the wall and stay there.”

Tobias scrambled quickly into the position his master had asked of him and wrapped his arms around his knees and held fast. He couldn’t explain his sudden rise of fear or _what_ had jumped on his back. He wanted to know, but at the same time, in so much darkness, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

Miroslav finally finished scanning or whatever he had been doing and returned to sit next to Tobias. The boy almost wished his master had kept the light, for it had faded at Miro’s command. They both pressed their backs hard against the rock behind them and Miro felt around for a moment before he squeezed Tobias’ arm.

“You’re all right, Tobias. I’m here with you.” Miro’s voice was quiet and Tobias nodded, though neither could see it.

“What was that thing?” Tobias asked, his voice was reduced to little more than the small vibration of sound that stumbled over his trembling lips.

“We will not speak its name. It can answer to it, and I will not have it return now.” Miro replied quietly, but was interrupted by a voice neither of them had ever heard before, not even in Miro’s advanced age.

“ _It **has** returned, and it yearns for manflesh._ ”

The voice sounded disembodied, shrill like the wind, as it came from all around them. Where one word was spoken, the next was not and it moved all around the alcove. Miro groaned lightly under his breath; for a moment, Tobias was worried he had been harmed, before he felt Miro stirring next to him.

Something touched his arm, a cold rough thing that had a pointed sharp end, like a claw and Tobias tensed completely. It was back and it was after him. He felt a claw draw up his arm, likely splitting it open from the sting he felt and he tried to jerk away, but another claw-like hand had gripped his shoulder. Struggling to cry out, this time Tobias realized he could make nothing more than a strangled gasp, a choking on the air that could not even begin to resemble words.

His fear escalated through the roof, his heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t see it, whatever the unknown beast was, and he was more terrified than he had ever been in his life. Still, he couldn’t see it. He wanted to know before he died what evil face this being had.

At that moment, the bright glow of orange drowned the alcove in its haze and there was another slicing sound, and something that sounded of bells, as the orange light moved at a quick pace and there was the sound of a hissing squeal before it vanished into the night, and then there was no more movement. Tobias had a hard time breathing, his heart continued to race even though the immediate threat was gone, he thought.

The last thing he could remember seeing was the strong-jawline of a blond man holding a torch as he looked over his shoulder and back to Tobias. He was holding a sword that dripped blood. Tobias then closed his eyes, and passed out.

\---

“We are much obliged to you.” Miroslav replied as he bound Tobias’ arm in a wrapping. He had placed a few healing herbs in the poultice while the other man had remained unconscious.

The others had woken from all the commotion and despite his misgivings, Miro had given the order that a fire be lit. They sat around it now, cold and sleepy, but curious as to what had occurred. The stranger who had saved them, sat near Tobias and held him while the wizard made the compress and bound his wound. Indeed, the monster had left a nice long gash down the man’s entire arm.

“Will it heal?” Bastian asked in a quiet voice.

“In time, all will be healed.” Miro replied. “This injury is no exception.”

Thomas looked at the stranger and Miroslav and at the sword that continued to gleam damp with the fresh blood upon it.

“What happened, exactly?” Thomas asked, in a voice that indicated he was in no mood for long explanations or fairy stories to get to the answer he was looking for.

The stranger obliged him when Miroslav did not immediately answer.

“It was an aufhocker, a demon spirit that attacks the lone human and feasts on the blood from its throat.” His voice was soft and smooth, but sounded well-educated despite the remoteness of the area.

“A vampire?” Mats asked with a raised eyebrow, looking at the stranger.

“Not quite.” The stranger replied with a small shrug. “Aufhockers’ change their shape and no one knows their true form, because no one has ever seen it and lived to tell the tale. They live and hide in these mountains and attack at night because they cannot be in the sun.”

“So a vampire.” Mats returned again and the stranger looked as if he wanted to dispute it further but instead, rolled his eyes and looked back to Thomas who had initially spoken to him.

“They can be chased away with the sound of bells, prayer, sometimes even swearing.” He replied with a slight shrug.

“And it can be killed with a blade?” Thomas asked, nodding to the stained sword.

The stranger hesitated and Miro, who had finally finished dressing the wound, looked at Thomas.

“No, they cannot be killed. They can, as our friend her suggested, be driven away but that is all. With so many awake and present, it will not return. Those creatures only go after the lonely as he said, or small groups, hardly a group of men.”

“Very well then,” Marco stated and then looked the stranger over again warily. “Who should we thank for our friend’s life?”

The stranger shrugged. “Thank whoever you may like. If you’re asking for my name, it is Benedikt. Benedikt Höwedes.”

Miro appeared to be lost in thought while Mats rolled the name around in his mind. He liked this Benedikt Höwedes, almost from the first moment he’d seen him, which had been around five minutes ago when he had woken up to the most wonderful profile of a man bathed in torchlight he had ever seen. And he’d seen one or two men in torchlight before.

While Marco began an interrogation of Benedikt, such as why he had happened upon them and helped them as he had, Thomas looked at Bastian and gave him a small smile.

“Your brother will be all right. We will watch over him.”

Bastian nodded and leaned close to Lukas, his eyes never leaving his brother. “I wonder why he didn’t recognize me.”

Miro came out of his thoughts then and looked between his favorite pupil and the boy’s brother.

“He was bewitched. It was a side-effect. He could not remember his own mother, most likely, had she been in front of him. Do not take it to heart, young Bastian. His memories will return to him the longer he stays away from his bewitcher.”

“Which is who?” Lukas asked with a frown. He had known Tobias most of his life until the older boy had gone away to the capital to become a wizard’s student. He, like Bastian, was worried over his health.

Thomas looked expectantly at Miroslav for an answer. With a slight shrug and a downturned expression, Miro replied.

“I know not. I hope to get many answers before we return. We are close to the dragon now. We will see him soon.” Miroslav exchanged another look with Thomas, as if suggesting it implied another ‘do you trust me?’ debate. Thomas nodded once and Miro looked to the opening of the alcove. “I will speak to the dragon alone.”

“When?” Manuel asked, speaking for the first time since he had awoken.

Miroslav looked back to the group and smiled slightly.

“In the morning. The dragon’s home is just over the next hill.”

Suddenly daybreak seemed entirely too far away, and yet, at the same time, not long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a real monster, info about it can be found [here](http://arcana.wikidot.com/aufhocker) or on the ever-so wonderful [Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aufhocker) page.
> 
> Tell me how I did. Was it as scary as I thought writing it at 2AM with that song on? Let me know what you think. And the good parts of the story are coming up next!


	13. In the Depths of Caverns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than I wanted but...eh. Enjoy :)

When Tobias roused from his fainting spell, the stranger, Benedikt, had stayed and had joined the company as a guide for the rest of the time that they would be in the mountains. He learned all this from asking Lukas, because Bastian had wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck and had refused to let go. Sleep did not come for the rest of them that night because they had grown too afraid of things that could stay in shadows that could remain unseen.

By the time the gray dawn arrived, many yawns had been shed by them all. A strange excitement at the possibility of seeing a dragon up close had grown over Bastian and Lukas, while apprehension on the subject came from Manuel and Thomas. 

“Must you go in alone?” Marco asked as they had begun to repack their ponies. Benedikt was putting out the fire as carefully as possible to avoid a large whiff of smoke to rise.

Miroslav nodded. “Yes. It’s imperative. Besides, should I be eaten by the dragon, you will all need the chance to escape.” His tone was so dry that for a moment they could not realize he had made a joke. Mats was the first one to smile slightly, though he did not laugh, and Bastian along with Lukas shared a giggle.

The ride away from that wretched alcove went slowly, though with more purpose than the other mornings as well. Tobias was still light headed from the loss of blood he’d had the night before along with his nerves. As they went down the rocky mountain path, smoothed by glaciers many Ages ago, he felt the desire to keep looking over his shoulder. It was one he tried to suppress, but he found he could not.

Benedikt led the group, though he had strong aversions to facing a dragon, towards the next mountain, the one that Miroslav had indicated was the source of their journey. The ground was slippery with ice that had lodged itself in the crevices of the road and snow was packed hard there, having not been disturbed for many centuries. The temperature dropped considerably, for they were now well over ten thousand feet from the ground, and their breathing began to grow more labored, despite the minimal exertion they were having.

At long, long last and after several weeks on the road, they arrived on a neighboring cliff to the one that had an open mouth that gaped open into the mountainside. Benedikt stopped the company and they looked at the large cavern in which light did not penetrate past a few minimal feet into the cavern. They could see nothing, no large serpent or otherwise in the cave.

“Are we sure that’s it?” Mats asked, warily watching the cavern’s mouth. It certainly appeared large enough, but the space seemed, with all things considering, rather peaceful. There was no sense of foreboding or imminent danger to be found.

“Oh yes. Can you not feel the magic shrouding it?” Miroslav asked before looking back to the pirate. “Well, I suppose you couldn’t. Remind me one day, should we survive this venture and you should like to, that I can teach you wonderful things about creatures and sorcery.”

“Is that a job offer?” Mats asked with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel about going clean-cut.

“Merely an opportunity to learn, Master Pirate.” Miroslav replied, though he had a smile on his face. Mats stood a little straighter when Benedikt looked him over at the mention of piracy. He then let his eyes sparkle with mischief as a smirk crossed his face. The guide rolled his eyes and looked back to Miroslav.

“How long shall we give you before we go in after you?” He asked, really hoping he wouldn’t have to go into the cave at all. Dragons were not a beast he was familiar with hunting.

Miroslav considered the question for a moment as he dismounted and handed his horse’s reigns over to Thomas for safekeeping.

“As long as it takes until I return. No one is to follow me inside.” Miroslav gave the order and then slowly started along the very narrow ledge that separated the two cliffs from one another.

The cave’s mouth was at an angle from them, so that they could watch as the wizard moved over to it. No sound apart from a small whisper of wind could be heard as they all waited with their breath lodged in their chests. After several stressful moments later, Miroslav stood in the mouth of the cavern and peered inside.

At a great distance the sound of water dripping could be heard just as a low rumble could barely be heard. Frowning, Miroslav entered the cavern and summoned some magic to make a little glowing light illuminate his path as he entered into the darkness, and vanished from the sight of his company.

\---

As the sun stretched across the sky, the company waited for the wizard to return. Tobias rested as he looked over his bandaged arm. Lukas and Bastian overlooked the vista of the mountains surrounding them. Thomas, Manuel and Marco prepared a strategy in case Miroslav did not return. And Mats was too busy staring at Benedikt to pay much attention to anyone else.

Benedikt noticed and tried to ignore the other man by cleaning and sharpening his sword, the rock he moved over the metal created a nice steady scraping sound that filled where they sat.

And the company waited and watched the dark black hole that led into the mountain. And they waited.

And they waited.

\---

Miroslav walked for a while, he wasn’t sure how long, as he wound his way into the cave. It was obviously magically designed, for no cave in the mountains this high would ever have been so extensive. The signs of Dark Magic were apparent to him, for all Dark Magic left a trace. A scrape on the otherwise perfect flesh that usually could be found. In the case of actual locations where such power has been used, it stains the rocks black where they otherwise may have been a different color. Darkness lingers, shadows are thicker than they should be, and the air feels heavy.

All of these signs, Miroslav noticed as he wound his way into the dragon’s cave. The dripping sound of water was all around him now, despite how quietly he tried to walk his steps still lingered in the quiet. Only now, the rumble he thought he had heard before, grew louder, coming from somewhere in front of him. It grew progressively louder as the water had, only as soon as he thought he had arrived to its source, it went further away from him.

At long last, when the rumble had grown to a steady rhythm of rising and falling, Miroslav paused and listened. It was the sound of someone, rather, some _thing_ , breathing.

Miroslav threw the orb of light he had created into the air where the orb burst and instead stretched along the caverns walls. As the light grew and expanded, Miroslav could see he had reached a large hold in the cavern, large enough that perhaps the castle in Ansieál could be housed if it squeezed in tightly. A stream formed from the years of dripping water had caused enough erosion to cut its way around the perimeter of the cavern before it disappeared somewhere into the blackness. Right in the middle of the cavern, though, was what took Miroslav’s gaze.

A beast, massive in size, rested on a large protrusion of the rock, and it was asleep. The rumble was the sound of its breath as it slept on. It had grown fat, likely due to all the livestock it had found to eat. Miroslav looked over its scales and saw that they were gray in color; his claws were long and sharp, perhaps about three feet in length for the shortest of his talons. His tail was long, so long that it wrapped around the dragon’s entire body one and a half times before it ended in a forked point. Along the spine of the beast, large sharp horns protruded and ran the entire length of its back. Around his head, the dragon had fewer spikes, though there were several, and Miroslav could only imagine how many sharp teeth rested inside of those massive jaws.

He was magnificent, a perfect specimen of dragon. Miroslav was almost giddy with joy at having seen another dragon in his lifetime, before he realized, emotions crashing down with an alarming speed, that it was as he had feared. His smile turned to a frown as he felt a great pang of sympathy for the beast. Still, he needed answers. And a sleeping dragon could tell him nothing.

“My Lord, awaken, if you please. I need to speak with you.” Miroslav spoke into the cavern. It took a few moments, but the eyes of the dragon opened slowly and with a slow movement, the creature raised its head.

To speak with a dragon, you could speak aloud as though you were conversing with a friend. Or, in the case of those with the most wonderful abilities with magic, you can also communicate silently through the mind. It is more helpful that way, particularly if you do not wish to be overheard, as was Miroslav’s indication here. Thus, they spoke but only in the minds of one another.

“You are foolish to come in here alone, wizard.” The dragon spoke, watching his guest with bright blue eyes that did not stray from the path of wherever Miroslav walked, because the wizard did not stand idle in one place for long.

“Perhaps, or perhaps I am smart because you see, I know your secrets.” Miroslav said and looked into the face of the dragon. “I am so sorry, my friend.” The look on the wizard’s face was one of apology and contrition. “This was a fate I did not wish upon anyone.”

“This has come to be so. I will pay my price for my gratitude and not complain, as I have vowed to do.” The dragon replied and looked at Miroslav, though the dragon’s eyes were keen and sharp, they had a weariness that matched Miro’s own. It was a weariness that only could come from having lived in a world for too long without happiness or joy. A weariness that weighed on the mind forever in the back of it. A weariness that aged a soul faster than time ever could.

“And this vow, to whom was it made?” Miroslav asked, still not willing to trust the dragon enough to stay still.

“You know I cannot tell you that. I am bound against it in this magic.”

Miroslav nodded and then he paused on the rocks, he was near the dragon’s head, but the beast would still have to stretch to get him, if he so felt like doing.

“I do not suppose I could try and talk you out of stopping the destruction of villages…that won’t work, will it?” The dragon did not reply, only continued to watch the wizard. Miroslav continued in his silence. “That is what I was afraid of. Someone is controlling you, and you cannot break your master’s will, nor can you tell me of his plans. I see.”

Miroslav sighed then and wished for a moment that he could reach out and touch the hide of the dragon in a small effort to give it some comfort. Alas, he did not.

“I can only ask that you try and resist your master’s bidding. Many people are dying and they do not need to. I just ask that you try to resist him.” Miroslav had a pretty good idea who was controlling the dragon, but he did not speak the man’s name aloud, nor did he think it.

“I cannot resist my master’s will. I made a sacrifice, you know of this.” Miroslav nodded and he looked sadly at the dragon. Indeed, he did know.

Quietly, he spoke aloud. “I will try and free you from this curse, you have my word, my friend.”

The dragon did not reply, merely blinked at the wizard as his long tongue slithered from his jaw and showed the forked appendage to Miroslav. Miroslav smiled slightly at the gesture and he bowed his head respectfully, before he took a few steps backwards.

“You should leave before he knows you are here. He will order me to kill you and as I have said, I cannot resist his will.” The dragon spoke and Miroslav agreed.

“Very well. Until the next meeting, my friend.” Miroslav said again and he turned to leave the shelter of the dragon’s cavern with a heavy mind and unpleasant tidings. It was a curse, then. And someone _was_ controlling him. Two things that Miroslav found to be most unpleasant indeed.


	14. Frigid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Houston, we have a new chapter! More on the way too ;) Enjoy :D
> 
> This chapter is especially dedicated to the lovely Fira who entertained me whilst writing it. Thank you my dear :*

The company waited on the ledge as the sun began to slink down. It was just barely touching the tops of the mountains, casting a long shadow over the valley. Soon it would be dark, though the sun would not actually set for another few hours. But in the mountains, the heights of the peaks prevented the light from shining on them. The night would grow cold, snow would likely fall, and they would freeze if they did not leave to seek shelter soon.

Thomas refused to make camp so close to the dragon. He was not going to single-handedly order the deaths of his company because of a foolish need for shelter. He trusted Miroslav completely and he wouldn’t just leave him, nor would he dispatch anyone to find shelter because if it wasn’t suitable, then they would have to leave anyway. Besides, Miroslav had been gone for hours. There had been no word. Thomas didn’t like it. They could hardly stay where they were, but nor would he allow them to leave. As the moments grew longer, he stared at the cave’s mouth and debated silently on what to do.

When his sword had sharpened to the point that he could do no more to it, Benedikt had checked on Tobias’ wound and saw that it was still fresh and sore. He had changed the dressing under the supervisory eyes of the man’s little brother. As he worked, he told Bastian what he was doing and why in regards to the herbs and the concoctions that he and Miroslav had created. Bastian was like a sponge, absorbing the knowledge eagerly. Benedikt even allowed Bastian to help re-wrap the arm and the boy was delicate of his brother’s condition. Benedikt smiled when they were done and ruffled the young man’s hair.

All of this was done under the watchful eye of Nightwind.

Eventually it became too much and the blond man could not stand it another moment further. He finished the short conversation he’d been having with Bastian and excused himself to go speak to the man who was sitting on the ledge of the cliff, legs dangling over the abyss below as if he had no care in the world for a fear of heights. Reckless, is what Benedikt thought of him. Reckless and dangerous. _And handsome_.

“They call you a pirate.” Benedikt said as he sat behind the man and off to the left, his back against the arm of the mountain that protruded forward. He had no fear of heights, but he wasn’t going to risk sliding off the edge either. The ground there could be tricky, could give way in a rockslide and then that would be the last anyone would ever hear of you again, that and the scream you would emit as you fell hundreds upon hundreds of feet to the rocks below. No, he had no desire to do that at all.

“Do they?” Mats tilted his head back, smirk playing on his lips while his eyes danced with merriment. “What else do they call me, _Kuschelbär_?”

The word from one of the lands far beyond Antiá fell from his lips and it seemed that Benedikt knew its meaning, for he wrinkled his nose at the word. Perhaps it wasn’t the implication he was someone’s cuddle bear, rather than the fact that Mats appeared not at all bothered by using a pet name for him. Benedikt resisted a sigh.

“Benedikt, if you please. And how should I know? They are your friends and they only refer to you as ‘Master Pirate’. So my question is, are you a burglar or a murderer?” Benedikt watched with an unreadable expression on his face. This fact annoyed Mats because that was his trade, to read _people_ , to know what they think and how they will act before they do so. The only things he couldn’t seem to read were mountain trolls in Horgoroth, but that was another story altogether.

“Is that all you think pirates do?” Mats asked, shifting his body carefully so that one of his knees bent and he rested his elbow on it where he then placed his head to rest on his balled fist as he looked at Benedikt with an expression of amusement.

“No. But you do not strike me as a real pirate, so therefore I repeat my question.” Benedikt watched him, his expression still indecipherable. 

“Both, and of course there’s the whoring and the pillaging. You’ve forgotten those, _Zaubermaus_.” Mats replied and smirked.

Benedikt watched him, looking quite unimpressed with being considered a magical mouse also, before he replied. “I think you embellish your tales to make yourself sound more interesting than you are. I do not believe these stories you tell, _arschloch_.”

Whether or not it was because the stranger, who had only known Mats for several hours, had been able to see through him with hardly a sweat broken, or the fact that the same stranger was busy calling him a liar that caused Mats to become agitated was never known. At that moment, Miroslav finally returned from the cave and back to the ledge. He walked with purpose in his strides and was a lot quicker in returning over the very narrow ledge separating him from the chasm below than he had been when he had entered the dragon.

“Does the great beast follow you?” Thomas asked, hand tightening around the handle of his sword.

“Not yet,” Miroslav replied, still moving quickly and urging the others to do so with his hand gestures. “Though I would not recommend we delay. We must return to the capital, at once.”

After many hours of idleness, the company was quick to react to the wizard’s words as they scrambled up and onto their ponies. Thomas did not stop to ask the wizard questions, though he burned from curiosity to do so, because there was something in the way that Miroslav was moving quickly to get them away from that place even though darkness was rapidly descending told him now was not the time.

They all mounted their horses and started the direction in which they had come earlier that day, back towards the path where the aufhocker had attacked the night before. Tobias was extremely alert, despite remembering what Benedikt had told him about attacking sole travellers instead of large groups of people. They moved as quickly as possible considering the slipperiness of the freshly fallen snow on the glacial trail. Mercifully, more snow had yet to fall, though the sky was grey overhead and looked as if it could fall at any moment.

“What happened?” Thomas called to Miroslav who, as always, led the party down the mountainside. Unlike their earlier journey, once they reached the camp from the night before, they continued on, despite the fact darkness was growing thick and the road ahead became harder to see.

“I spoke to it, once I found it.” Miroslav replied, the wind carried his words to the party behind him. “It was as I feared. Someone controls the creature.”

“Do you know who?” Thomas asked, the path winding around the hills as they moved as quickly as they dared on the sheets of ice.

“I have an idea. I will speak no more of it until I have the proof, Thomas.” Miroslav looked back then and looked into his eyes. Thomas nodded once in understanding as the wizard then created another ball of energy to illuminate the trail’s path. Marco made a passing inquiry into why Miroslav hadn’t done that earlier, but no one else answered him.

The knowledge that the dragon was not in control of its own actions was more than enough to spurn even Marco into a great hurry to be on level ground once again and on a hard ride back towards Ansieál.

\---

They had stopped for the night when the moon was directly overhead and was bright enough to illuminate a vast plateau that stretched across from the lower slopes of the second-tallest mountain in the entire range to its neighbors beside it. There they camped next to a crop of rock half-buried in snow. No fires were lit because they did not have the kindling materials and they all went to sleep, apart from Marco, the unlucky one who had to keep the first watch.

The wind continued all through the night, bringing chilling winds across them all. Marco shivered frequently as he did not have the distraction of sleep to keep him warm. He wished for his old rooms in the castle, the two that he could call his own, with their warm fires and comfortable beds. They had been on the road for so long he almost had forgotten what a warm bed was like. Then, that was his life as a solider. This was, however, his first trek into the high reaches of the mountains. During his travels in his earlier life, he had never gone this far north and he did not think he would mind if he never did again as he continued to grow ever more cold as the night drug on.

From the dragon’s cave, they had travelled back the way they had come until they had reached the Pass of Eidari. Benedikt, the stranger but who seemed to know his way around the mountains—he had already led them on a shorter path that had gone by a stream and they had replenished their rapidly emptying canteens—had told them they should follow the road that had gone to the east. ‘It will spare you three days and get you home faster’, he had said. Of course, they had agreed.

When it was time for his watch to be over, Marco stumbled through the thick pack of snow that separated him from his comrades. He shook Manuel’s shoulder roughly, teeth chattering as he did so. The giant of a man roused after several moments and blinked at Marco for a moment before he realized it was his turn. Groaning slightly, Manuel pulled himself up and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. Seeing that Marco was half-frozen, he shook his head and draped his sleep-warmed blanket around the other man’s shoulders.

“Thank you.” Marco chattered and Manuel grunted sleepily before he went over to take the place that Marco had left. Warming slowly, Marco laid down next to his new King and hoped sleep would come soon and that they would be well out of these damnably cold mountains before too long. They could worry about the dragon later, he thought, as he fell into a semi-restful sleep.

\---

As the sun graced the frozen plateau, the snow began to shimmer with the light as it refracted back into the plain. A thousand diamonds shone across the field of them, as the chill from the morning’s air turned everyone’s cheeks and noses pink.

“It will do us well to move ahead,” Benedikt said, looking around the valley. “I do not like the looks of this place.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked as they shared a small breakfast between the company that composed of dry bread and the water from the spring from the night before. Benedikt shook his head, as he continued to look around at the valley. Something wasn’t quite _right_ about how fresh the snow looked. The wind continued, ever present as it reminded them of the season and that the mountains were never the best place to stay. Even the ponies didn’t like the chill of the air.

“He’s just worried I’ll leave him once we get out of here, aren’t you, _Zaubermaus_?” Mats asked as he walked past to put away the sword he had sharpened.

Benedikt did not even roll his eyes at the man’s quip. Something that Mats found to be very odd, since he had at least received that much from him ever since he had started teasing the blond.

“Are you all right, Schatz?” He asked again, raising no eyebrows at all from any of his comrades at the use of pet names. They had all simply accepted his need to tease their guide.

Miroslav tilted his head and looked to the sky near the highest peak within sight, the direction in which they had come. He held up his hand to silence Mats who had continued speaking, though no one was listening to him at that point.

At last, the wind went silent and no one in the valley moved.

No one, that was, except for the large shadow that had just crested the shoulder of the mountain, and was headed straight down for their small camp.

After a night of peace, the dragon had come.

“Ready yourselves, it comes for us.” Miroslav told them just as a long stream of fire came from the winged beast above them. It released a long trail of fire that spread from the ledge of one cliff to the next, perhaps a thousand feet above them.

“Ha! That wasn’t even close!” Mats laughed at the dragon. “This is the creature we fear? With an aim as bad as that?”

Benedikt and Miroslav saw the reaction at the same time, turning to free the ponies at once. Manuel was the second to notice and grabbed Bastian and Lukas in a massive grip as he started for the edge of the valley. Tobias scrambled after them, pushing Lukas to the side also as Thomas called to Mats to get out of the way.

Dazed and confused, Mats was the last to realize what was happening. It wasn’t until he saw the fractures in the lines of sheets of snow high above his head that he realized the dragon hadn’t missed. He just had wasted no effort on hunting them down; the beast was going to let the snow do it for him. A loud, low rumble began as sheet upon icy sheet, began to fall from the ledge and it was headed straight for the entire company.

Mats swallowed hard and then he too started for the side of the valley as the horses ran well ahead of all of them, trudging through the thick snowpack as the roar of the avalanche grew louder and louder.


	15. Arctic Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing in the mythology section again... :D Enjoy!

All was quiet.

The sound of the rumble had faded and all grew still. How long it had been since the mountain came down across the plateau, the field of ice that for thousands of years had been the victim of many cascade of snow, it was hard to tell. Nothing moved in the frozen ground and everything was smoothed over with a coating of white. And with a great flap of wings, the dragon finished surveying its work and rose back into the sky to return to its cave.

The first thing that came to Thomas’ senses was the sound of a heartbeat pumping rapidly inside of his chest. Then came the sound of his breath, heavy and thick, as he tried to calm himself down. As he opened his eyes, the only thing he could see was white. He felt stuck, it was hard to breathe, the snow was so compacted around his body, that he couldn’t exhale deeply enough to take in a good breath. Panic started in him but he closed his eyes and took another moment to himself. The sound of his heartbeat slowed and the rumble of it stopped echoing in his ears. His breathing went next, slowing down to a normal pace and he opened his eyes again.

He shifted and tried to reach out, reach up and find the surface but it was difficult to move. Trying to keep himself calm, Thomas tried to work his body so that he was ‘swimming’ upwards. The cold was everywhere around him and he felt as if he would never be warm again.

Unwilling to give up, he kept trying to shimmy his way upwards but to no luck. Hopelessness began to overtake his senses. The sound of his heartbeat increased as well as the pace of his breath. He was starting to panic again. He wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t die here now when the kingdom needed him; Thomas fought against the snow but he was tiring and his arms felt like they were made of led. He got nowhere in the drift. He wondered if the others had been found, if they had survived. He wondered if he was the only one still buried beneath the snow still. He could only hear the pulsing of his heart and the loudness of his breathing in his ears. No other sounds remained, except the memory of the rumble that had submerged him beneath the snow.

\---

Bastian and Lukas had clung to the giant of a man that had held them when they realized there was no escape from the crush of the white dragon’s breath. He had held them tighter and told them to hang on and to hold their breath before they were buried. It didn’t make sense at the time, but as he and Lukas had enough room to breathe properly, though they didn’t to save the oxygen, he was grateful for the half-elf’s wisdom.

If he stretched, Bastian could hold onto Lukas’ hand. Manuel was to the right of them and he was trying to stretch his arm upwards to break the surface of the snow. Lukas squeezed and Bastian could move his head just enough without too much snow falling into the back of his tunic that Lukas appeared unharmed apart from a small scratch that was reddening his cheek. Lukas winked and Bastian stayed calm. They would get out of this and their adventure would continue, he was sure of it.

He looked back over and waited to see if Manuel could free them.

\---

Marco had noticed what was going on before Mats had and he’d tried to get out of the way just as the others had done. After Tobias had pushed Lukas into Manuel’s hold, the wizard’s pupil had tripped on a rock. Marco, seeing this, had grasped the uninjured shoulder of him and had hauled him off. They had almost made it to a shelter of rocks that the others were also heading for but had been lost to the wave of snow as well. So too was Marco and Tobias’ fate.

Dazed, Marco listened as he heard someone breathing, until he realized it was himself and he found it oddly calming. His body was sore after having been beaten by snow. Who knew that snow could pack such a punch? If he survived getting out of being buried alive, he was never going to return to the mountains. Never. Not even if he was ordered by Thomas to do so.

\---

Benedikt wondered about his fate in the moments during the time the snow continued to rumble loud ahead of him as he was pushed through the snow into rocks, into possibly other members of that company, and against snow itself. When all had come to rest and the thoughts of survival were still present but needed the comfort of a moment’s rest before he began to try and claw his way out, he thought of what had transpired since he unofficially joined this group of men. He’d been attacked by a monster of the night, he’d gone with them as they stood outside a dragon’s cave—a _dragon_ —and he had been stared at by a so-called pirate who appeared was up to no good at all times. Now, he’d been buried alive in snow and he knew all-too well the risks of such a predicament. They did not have time to waste or delay.

Benedikt took a deep breath and tried to summon energy from his bruised body to fight his way to the top of the surface. That’s when he heard it. Over the sound of his own breath, he heard the distant crunch of a footstep being made on deep snow. He could hear the person sink into the surface before another step would occur as they battled their way through.

With renewed hope, Benedikt scrambled and tried to get a hand to break through the snow so that he could be found.

\---

Mario had hidden behind a rock when he saw the dragon was coming. He had watched from his ledge as the dragon had caused the monstrous avalanche that had occurred and then it flew off afterwards. He had done what he’d always been told to do whenever the snow fell and caused one of these, he kept his eyes on those washed under and that’s what he had done. After the snow had stilled and the wind resumed control of the valley and the cloud of snow had landed, Mario had made his way down and was now looking for the group of men trapped beneath the snow.

He had a good idea where Benedikt had ended up at, but moving carefully on the still-settling ground, he had to find him. He didn’t shout to find his lifelong friend, and he tried to disturb the ground as little as possible, spreading his weight out across every step he took. It was slow-going work but eventually he reached the last place he knew Benedikt had been. Then he made a guess, feeling the wind on his head that blew from behind, he let it guide him down the angled slope and then he listened intently with his hunter’s ears. He had found many a buried field mouse in snow before; he had a talent for finding things.

It took a minute for him to adjust the sound of the wind around him to any sound that someone buried under ice would make but finally he did. He heard scrambling from somewhere just to his right. Mario crouched down and listened as he slowly crept to the source of the sound and then, when he had found it, thrust his hand deep into the snow. It took a moment of digging but his hand grasped tightly to someone’s and he pulled with great strength. After several tries, the snow began to give a little. Mario dug at the snow, pushing it away and he pulled harder on the hand. Eventually, a blond head popped out of the snow, followed by a torso. At this point, the man, which to Mario’s dismay, was not Benedikt, climbed himself out. He sat on the edge of the snowpack that he had just climbed from and breathed deeply.

Mario watched him for a moment, struck by the man’s beauty. The sharpness in the man’s blue eyes, the strength of his build, and the boyish appearance to his face, Mario found him incredibly pleasing to look at. Then he remembered he was not here to find a new body to appreciate. He had to find Benedikt.

“There’s two more,” the man said, after having recovered his breath. “They were with me.”

Mario nodded and began to dig into the snowdrift while the other man watched him for a moment, still collecting his wits, before he joined in to help find the other two men. It took several moments of moving snow around before they found the blond head of one of them, and then several moments longer before the darker head appeared.

Bastian blinked when his head had cleared the surface of the snow and he was disoriented from being moved around in the snowfall and from the lack of a limitless supply of oxygen. He frowned when he saw the brunette stranger that had helped Manuel dig him and Lukas out. The man left him as soon as they were half-free and went further down the icefield. Bastian realized then, with a heartsick twist of his gut, the others were not around. It was only him, Lukas, Manuel and the newcomer.

He looked all around the frozen plain. Not even the ponies were in sight.

\---

Benedikt could hear the footsteps above him and he tried only then to call through the snow. He was afraid of risking another avalanche from the loud noises, but he wasn’t calling that loudly. Eventually, he heard the scraping of snow against snow and he waited with his breath caught in his chest as the scraping seemed to get closer. Finally, someone had grabbed a hold of the hand he had pushed up through the snow and began to shove. Kicking as if he were swimming, Benedikt and the rescuer freed him from the snowpack.

When Benedikt had his feel of gulping in fresh air, he noticed that his rescuer was someone very familiar indeed. Benedikt pushed himself to his feet, uncaring of the rest of the company that had been rescued around him, he threw his arms around the newcomer and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he kept repeating in gratitude and the other man rubbed his back lightly.

“Don’t thank me. I’ll always come to find you, always.” Benedikt nodded. He did know. Mario had always found him if he had been lost, ever since they were small children.

Mats watched the interaction between the two and he couldn’t help the small feeling of jealousy that rested inside him. He had found himself liking, perhaps a bit too much considering how recently he had just made the man’s acquaintance, the blond. Here it seemed as though Benedikt had someone more special and dear to him. Oh well, Mats thought with a disheartening look at the two embracing, I can still flirt with him.

Miroslav looked around the group and recounted everyone that had been rescued. Everyone, apart from their horses, were accounted for. That was something, anyway.

“What supplies do we have? We need to get a move on.” Miroslav started and the others were not quick to respond to him, having too recently been rescued from risking the white death.

“We need a moment to collect ourselves.” Marco said for the group, his tone was more fatigued than incredulous, though the sentiment lingered.

“There is no time for it. We must go.” Miroslav said and then faced Mario and bowed slightly. “You have our most sincerest thanks for finding us sir.”

Mario nodded slowly; an arm was still wrapped around Benedikt’s waist, much to Mats’ displeasure. “You are welcome, though I must agree with your friend here, you do need rest.”

“And as I have said we lack the time. I know it. I need it myself. However, we must return to the capital as quickly as possible. The dragon was sent here to kill us and as far as anyone knows, especially the one in control of it, he succeeded. If they think Thomas is dead…”

“Then they will come forward for my throne.” Thomas finished and tried to ignore the ache in his bones. This venture was turning into quite the nightmare. He still hadn’t dealt with the loss of his uncle properly. He wanted to see his mother, give her solace as well, and find the strength to move forward without the man that had raised him to guide him into being a wise king, a leader, a _man_.

“Exactly. We _must_ press ahead. It’s imperative.” Miroslav finished, looking Thomas in the eye as he did so.

Thomas nodded after a long sigh and he refocused his attention on the valley that surrounded them.

“How are we to do so with no ponies? It will take weeks to return home, months most likely.” Thomas looked back at Miroslav helplessly. They were stranded in the mountains.

Miroslav smiled a little, the look of one who knows many tools and resources that someone else may not. He then turned his attention to Tobias, who had been adjusting his bandage since the rolling through the snow had dislodged it, and bowed his head.

“My trusted pupil, I assume you can find them from here?”

Tobias nodded slowly and swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”

He asked and had seemed to pale slightly. Miroslav nodded.

“Yes. I think our friends will do us well to get us out of here. I trust you to summon them while the rest of us start to a meeting point, just there,” Miroslav pointed to the middle of the plateau. “They should be able to find us with no problem.”

Tobias nodded and pushed himself to his feet. He was unsteady in the snow, Bastian had to hold his arm to keep him from falling over. Tobias gave his brother a half-smile and ruffled his hair slightly.

“I will return.” He told his brother before starting away from where the company sat on a few rocks that hadn’t been completely buried in snow. They watched him go before the silence was broken by Mario.

“Dangerous to cross this expansive ground after so recently a disruption.” Mario warned and looked at Miroslav warily.

“I know it. But we need an open space and that is the only place where there is one nearby.” Miroslav started and looked to the others. “Prepare yourselves, we need to cross. Spread out and distribute your weight as evenly as possible. And travel slowly. Cause as small a disruption as possible.”

Mario nodded his agreement at the other man’s words and helped assist the company across the frozen fields. It was perilous and anxious driven, but Miroslav had promised it would all be worth it once they had arrived in the open plain.

Few sheets of snow dislodged under Lukas’ foot and he stared down at the shelf before it settled a few inches away from him where it stopped. Exhaling, Lukas and the group continued across until they reached the point that Miroslav had indicated. The wind was strong here, unhindered by rocks and it could roll straight down the cliffs of the mountains and whip across the shimmering diamond-like field of snow.

They waited, and watched, though they did not know for what. Benedikt found himself looking to the peak of the mountain. It had grown quiet again, and he was afraid another sheet of snow would fall again. From here, there would be no protection. If another avalanche were to start, they would die most certainly.

“Who is coming, Miro?” Marco asked the wizard from where he stood. They were all stretched in a line, a way to distribute their weight without making any one place too heavy.

“Are we not in the midst of a battle?” Miroslav asked before looking over to Marco with a curious look on his face.

“Aye, I suppose we are.” Mats replied for the Guardsman.

Miroslav nodded and then looked to the sky as a shadow suddenly crossed over the sun that barely peeked over the crests of the mountains overhead. It had been a brief flicker, but a shadow never the less. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Thomas asked, watching Miroslav warily.

“All the things in the world, my Lord. Everything.” Miroslav smiled when he saw the wings coming towards them before he looked at Thomas. “It means everything when our way from these mountains involves the dealings of the Fates.”

Manuel became alert to their guests arrival first, having always been more sensitive to the presence and ways of Otherkind. His mouth opened in shock as he looked at Miroslav disbelievingly.

“You can’t be serious. If they chose to leave us here, or drop us from a great height…They are the most fickle!”

Miroslav began to smile brightly indeed, joyous at his plan when he saw that there were more than enough in the Heavenly host to get them out of the mountains.

“Fickle though they may be, if it is not our time to die, then we will not. And count them, there are plenty for all of us to be saved. Let us go away from this place.”

It was then that the host began to descend. Bastian noticed with great relief that Tobias was already being carried by one of them. Lower and lower they came until they could be recognized. With golden wings and crowns made of the precious metal, their hair flow freely in long cascading waves across their shoulders and behind them, they were the most beautiful creatures apart from the elvenkind that the entire company had ever seen.

The Valkyrie had arrived.


	16. A Discussion with Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never know what to say up here! I'm just happy it's a long chapter. Dedicated as always to the beautiful Eliza who I love most dearly and our beloved pet dragon. Also dedicated to acciothirteen who amuses me (and that's never a bad thing).
> 
> Thank you very much for sticking with me throughout this saga. It's winding down to a close, slowly, but don't worry. The idea of a sequel is currently in the works. ^.^ Enjoy, my dears. And let me know what you think!

If the Gods had wanted him to fly, they would have given them wings. It’s what Bastian had been told when he was young when he’d wished to do so. He had just fallen out of a tree and broken his arm trying. Lukas had spent as much time as he could with him while he healed.

But this, this was so much greater than that. Whatever feeling he had imagined flight to be, it was eclipsed by his body actually soaring through the air with a very firm arm wrapped around his body and the strong beat of wings every so often to keep their altitude. The mountains and valleys moved below them at such a quick pace, that the white of the snow and gray from the rocks blurred together.

Flight was a truly magical thing. He couldn’t help but laugh in delight.

The Valkyrie holding him was currently coasting along in the current of wind that was carrying them eastward. She was truly beautiful with her long blond hair and beautiful brown eyes. She was stronger than any woman Bastian had ever seen. Her wings were golden to match the color of her hair and were great in their span, perhaps six feet across. Bastian looked to where Lukas was also soaring through the air nearby, a laugh constantly coming from him. Like Bastian, Lukas had always wanted to fly. This was incredible, something they had never dreamed was possible before was something they were actually getting the chance to experience. It was truly wonderful. For a while, Bastian could forget the reasoning behind their urgency.

For those few hours that he was caught in the Valkyrie’s embrace, he let himself be truly free. The sound of his laughter carried on the wind and his heart, for the first time since they had entered the mountains, was lighter than a feather falling from any bird.

All too soon, the snow had given way to just rocks on the mountains. Eventually, those rocks began to fade as more and more pines began to rise from the great forest and reclaim their hold on the ground. Still, the Valkyrie flew more eastward. Something didn’t appear to be familiar about the ground beneath them, Bastian had noticed. They had come from the south, where the hills had been plenty and the ground was green, luscious with grazing grass and trees from the Brundagir.

The ground that was beneath them, and looming closer for the Valkyrie had descended a little, no longer needing to fly quite as high because the mountains were fading fast underneath them, was not as green. The trees were not as dense as they had been and there were still plenty of rocks to be seen. Then the color of the rocks changed, they grew lighter than the smoke-colored stones to the sun-bleached color of sand. Then Bastian realized, they were headed eastward, across the great desert.

He swallowed hard as the Valkyrie host continued eastward. The ground had flattened as the scorched earth of Erovíere began to stretch across the horizons. Already, he could tell the shift in air temperature. It had once been cold in his goddess’ embrace, but now the heat was reflecting higher and sweat even began to form on his brow. He could only imagine what the beautiful creature must be feeling like. After all, they had been flying for hours.

The Erovíere was still underneath them on every expanse of horizon that could be seen as the Valkyrie began their descent. Bastian began to feel a moment of panic. If they left them here, they would die. They had no water, no supplies. They would have to walk the rest of the way across the desert. They wouldn’t make it. He started to fidget in her hold, earning a hiss and a sharp squeeze from her arms, before she finally came to rest next to her sisters on the ground.

It was truly hot here. The sun baked the ground from above and the clothes that they had worn for warmth in the mountains was baking them alive. Once released, Bastian like all the others began to shed the thicker tunics and cloaks they had worn.

Miroslav was addressing the lead Valkyrie. He bowed in her presence and thanked her for her kindness and generosity in aiding them. Bastian’s eyes widened in panic. They couldn’t be leaving now! He wasn’t the only one with this concern as the others began to voice their opinions. Miro silenced them all with a glare, though they desperately wanted to continue their flight across the desert.

“My lady, Skuld, thank you for your time. We are in your debt.” Miroslav then rose from his bow and looked the creature in the eye. She was taller than the rest and wore a shield over her shoulder. She had been the one that carried Miroslav.

“My friend, let us speak for a while before my host and I leave your company. Let us walk.” She addressed and Miroslav nodded his agreement. He gave the others a warning look before he and the taller-than-him Valkyrie left the group to walk a small path away from them in the small scrub brush of the desert.

Bastian moved over to Lukas and tried to be happy about what they had just achieved, but both were too worried. Already the temperature was climbing around them and their clothes were beginning to stick to their bodies. For a brief moment, Bastian looked to his brother and saw that another of the host was seeing to his wound. He relaxed a little and looked back to his boyfriend.

While waiting for Miroslav to return, the company dispersed themselves with various activities. Manuel was speaking to the creature that had carried him and was also thanking her for her time. Marco was admiring the wings of the lady that had brought him down from the mountains. He had never truly seen a Valkyrie before and he was taking every opportunity to look her over, though he was still trying to be respectful of her space, the creature had noted with amusement. Mario was looking for a possibly hidden spring underneath the surface; he refused to believe the desert could truly be as dry as everyone claimed. Benedikt was avoiding Mats’ eyes while the Pirate could look at nothing but the guide. 

Thomas was watching Miroslav and Skuld as they were now quite a distance away from the group. The conversation that was taking place between them did not look to be a pleasant one. Skuld appeared apologetic, concerned even, while Miroslav was speaking with her as if he were trying to impart some wisdom onto her. Thomas found the idea amusing; Miroslav had had the same look on his face when he’d spoken to him as a boy many times. He wasn’t quite sure who was older, the Valkyrie or Miroslav, when he thought about it. They both were wise; he had no doubts of that. Another thought occurred to Thomas, but he wasn’t given the chance to ask before the soft-spoken voice of the angel that had brought him addressed him.

“Little King, your thoughts trouble you.” She said softly. Unlike the others, she was a brunette and her wings were darker gold than the others. 

Thomas nodded slowly and then tilted his head. “May I have your name, my lady?”

She smiled slightly at him, pleased at his manners. “Göndul, Little King.”

Thomas had heard tales of the Valkyrie before. He never thought he would actually meet a creature of the legends. He bowed his head politely. “Greetings, wand-wielder”

“What is it that troubles you besides your current surroundings?” She asked and was accurate in at least one of his problems. How they would survive being stranded in the desert without aid, he could not be sure. Still, it was not wise to ignore fate when she was so patiently asking for your troubles to be spoken of.

“Did one of you come for my Uncle?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. He had wondered. His uncle had not died in battle, but as Miroslav had mentioned earlier, this was a silent battle where the armies was the wits of men and magicians.

Göndul nodded and looked around the host before she found the Valkyrie she was looking for. Subtly she indicated which one and Thomas studied the creature. A lump had formed in his throat and tears stung sharply at his eyes.

“Þögn is the one that came for your uncle, the Mighty King.” Göndul replied in her soft-spoken voice. She then turned her attention back to Thomas.

“So he was slain in battle, then?” Thomas asked, breath heavy with tears that were threatening to spill over. “He was murdered?”

Göndul waited a moment before she nodded and gave him an apologetic look. Her countenance was so beautiful it was hard to look at, but Thomas found his eyes blurring with tears and he closed them, the pressure ejecting a few tears to slide down his cheeks. He wasn’t going to cry in the presence of his company, nor in the presence of wonderful beings such as the Valkyrie. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“This is not all that troubles you?” Göndul asked again. Thomas took a shuddering breath and looked at the creature again.

“Will my kingdom suffer from this person who dares steal my throne from me? From the person who slayed my uncle?” He asked and hoped the creature of fate could answer. He dared not presume how fate could be controlled but he had to know. He had to.

Göndul seemed to debate a while before she would answer. Fate is a line, a destiny that must always remain true no matter how you wish it could be changed and it was hard to alter. It was not wise, though, to attempt to thwart the fates and change your own from happening as it was predicted. In the end, all things come true, no matter the desired result. Göndul was more than aware of this, for millennia she had been one of the leading of her sisters. Still, she felt pity for the Little King. She knew his fate, as she did all of those in the company. She did not wish to tell him what was in store for him, but nor could she leave him without something. He would be a great leader one day, if given the chance.

“Your kingdom will have its trials,” she said at last. “As does any realm. I will not answer in regards to your kingdom. I can only tell you that you will suffer greatly in this fight for your crown, Little King.”

Göndul was watching him with him with almost an apology in her expression. Thomas swallowed hard. Would he be maimed? Would he lose a limb? Would he go mad? What did ‘suffer greatly’ even mean? He wanted to ask, but he had already received the blessing of a council with the wand-wielder and he would not press his luck.

Göndul looked back to where her sister was speaking with the wizard.

“You care for him.” She said, causing Thomas’ eyes to widen. How did she—he closed his eyes and almost kicked himself. _Of course, fates._

“I do.” Thomas whispered before he tried to jest, “but you are cheating. You already know that.”

Göndul smiled at his retort. “I appreciate humor. I know a great many things.”

“Such as?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. Perhaps he would get lucky and she would provide him insight into his life once again.

“Such as you think he may be your One Love.” She said and the cold truth of hitting the nail on the head slid down Thomas’ chest. Her eyes sparkled with the knowledge of being correct.

“Is he?” Thomas asked, shaken again by how accurate she was yet again. He wasn’t used to such candor from anyone, let alone by someone who actually knew the answers and wasn’t a witch or a divination proficient.

The creature shook her head. “I cannot tell you that. It is yours to decide.”

“But if he is my One Love, as you guessed, then there is no other choice. It’s him or no one.” Thomas replied and Göndul nodded, already knowing this. She looked as if she wanted to speak, but was unsure of how to say whatever it was. “Please, speak freely, my Lady. My feelings won’t be hurt so easily.”

Göndul watched him for a moment, her interest in him was sharp. “That is not what I fear. I worry over your actions if you know too much. Just remember: all fate is destined to be so, it cannot be changed.” Thomas nodded; he didn’t like the sound of it, but he would not argue. He wouldn’t dare take up a philosophical debate against someone who had Ages of more knowledge than he could ever hope to possess. Göndul continued.

“The idea of someone having only One Love is an old one. You mortals are so keen to believe that there is only one for you, one soulmate, one life partner for all your existence.” Thomas wanted to speak but didn’t interrupt. “You are right, to some degree any way. For most mortals, there is only the One.”

“Most mortals?” He couldn’t help it then, he had to speak. Göndul nodded.

“Some are unlucky to have their One be taken before they truly should have been, tragedies is what we call them. In the wake of such a moment, a new One is created. Where for one person, their One is gone, but for the second person, the original is their One Love.”

Thomas frowned as he thought more about the implications of the Valkyrie’s words. “You’re saying that if someone’s spouse died and that was their One, then they would continue to think of their spouse that way, even thought they might remarry and the new partner thinks of them as their One?” Göndul nodded. “That’s awful! The second person would know that they weren’t who the original wanted. That’s cruel!”

Thomas stared at the creature in horror. Göndul nodded in agreement.

“It is. Fate is not always kind, Little King.”

Thomas could not argue that. He still was having trouble grasping what the creature had just told him.

“The union between two people who do find their One is not to be trifled with nor interfered with. As I have just explained, it is a rare, precious gift that is not to be wasted. I tell you this, because if you believe that the Wizard is, in fact, your One, you should not hesitate to let him know. You are mortal, so is he at heart, though he ages much, much slower than you.”

Thomas watched her warily. “Am I his One? Or is there someone else waiting for him?”

Göndul smiled slightly. “I cannot tell you that. However, if you perceive it to be true, and that you are his One, does it matter? You could both have your happiness now.”

Thomas lapsed into silent thought at that. He had always admired, respected the wizard. And there was no one in the entire realm that could tell a story better than Miroslav. Thomas had known him all of his life. He wasn’t sure when his feelings of admiration and respect had changed to one of a romantic interest. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, either. So, then, did it matter if Miroslav was the One for him? Göndul was right. If the perception was there and they were both happy, then they would both be happy together. If it were not to be that they were not the One for each other, they still would have had their happiness together. Was there really something wrong with that belief?

“Why do you call me ‘Little King’?” Thomas asked with a slight scowl. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that. You called my uncle a mighty king, why not I?”

Göndul shook her head and her wings twitched. The others in the host stirred much the same way. Miroslav and Skuld were still a distance away.

“You have not earned such titles, Little King. Until you do, your youth keeps you small.” She replied and started to lift from the ground, her wings keeping her in the air. The others had also mirrored this movement. “Earn your name, Thomas, and you will be great.”

Göndul bowed her head and then rose higher into the sky with her sisters. Thomas watched them rise and then they started to fly away. They were headed back towards the mountains, he watched them go. It wasn’t until Miroslav was half-way back from where Skuld had left him, that Thomas realized they were in the middle of the desert with few to no supplies to keep them alive.

“What are we going to do now?” He asked once Miroslav was within earshot.

“So impatient.” Miroslav said as he came to sit on a stone near the company. “First we wait, and then we will proceed.”

“Wait for what?” Mats asked after he uncrossed his arms. He had been watching this Mario person with his Benedikt for too long. He was getting cross in his expression.

“Our Valkyrie friends to return with a gift for us.” Miroslav said, letting out a groan as he sat down. He then looked to Bastian and Lukas and addressed them in particular. “I must confess, I did rather miss flying. However, I have always been a firm believer in having one’s feet well planted on the ground.”

Lukas smiled a little but he stayed close to Bastian. Thomas watched as they held one another’s hands and for a moment his mind cleared apart from one wonderment. He didn’t wonder what they were going to do to get across the desert. He didn’t wonder what gift the Valkyrie were going to return with. He didn’t wonder who was behind this assault on his realm. He didn’t even wonder who the murderer of his uncle was.

The only thing the king allowed himself to wonder was: how could he present his affections to Miroslav without looking foolish?


	17. Erovíere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy ;) More on its way!

Only a handful of Valkyrie returned as the night fell in the Erovíere and with them they brought ten curious horses that could have only come from the desert itself, perhaps have been created by the Valkyrie themselves, for none of them had ever seen such a kind of creature before. These horses were far more slender than any other in the realm and they were smaller in stature and weight with a curved neck and high-carrying tail. Most of them were bay in color and of the four that were not, two were chestnut and the other two were black.

Initially Marco had been too curious to study the horses than to accept the lead in which the Valkyrie was offering him. Eventually he did so and that was when he, along with the others, noticed the horses carried four canteens of water apiece.

“These horses are unlikely to survive with our weight and no water of their own here.” Mats said warily to the Valkyrie known as Göndul.

“You should share your own, Pirate. As for their slight nature,” She said, petting the muzzle of one of the bay’s, “they are of sturdier stock than you are. They have lived in the desert for many centuries.”

“Are they feral?” Lukas asked.

“A good question!” Marco seconded, to everyone’s surprise that he actually found something Lukas had to say interesting.

Göndul smiled at the one who always lingered near the blond-boy. They both had a kind heart, for that was their true gift above any other.

“I suppose you would consider them so, yes. However, they will not misbehave on you, Sunrider.”

Lukas frowned at the use of a name he had never heard before. He was going to question it when a voice in his head, a voice that sounded much like the Valkyrie’s did, spoke to him while maintaining eye contact.

‘ _One day you shall be great, Lukas. You will be known to all as Sunrider, the man who went into the sun and returned without blindness._ ’

Lukas smiled shyly at first, cheeks reddening with embarrassment as he glanced down at the sand underfoot. The chill was coming across the desert now, now that the sun had gone. The world had eclipsed into bluish hues that would only return to gold once the sun returned, and along with it, the heat of another monstrous day.

Unsure of how to answer aloud, especially now that Thomas was dictating the movement of supplies and who was to be on which creature while also thanking the lady Göndul for her generosity, Lukas looked back into her eyes after he looked up and thought to her.

‘ _Thank you, my Lady for the gift of knowing about my future._ ’ He bowed his head again and once more the voice came to him.

‘ _Do well with yourself, Lukas. That day is far ahead into your future. Make sure you live long enough to see that day come to pass._ ’

He nodded and looked up but she had turned away again. He filed her warning and insight away. Of course he would share his nickname with Bastian later, but the warning he would keep to himself. There would be time enough for that later.

“Let us make some headway tonight. We will rest in a few hours.” Thomas ordered, eager to be on the way again after a trying delay from the sunrise avalanche to having been flown out of the mountains. Marco yawned but covered it quickly. They would be off, then.

As the company mounted their horses, the lady Göndul moved to stand atop the rock that Miroslav had seated himself earlier. She watched as they readied their supplies, saying thank you as they walked past her. Lukas and Bastian had taken the chestnuts, and Thomas and Miroslav had taken the black horses for their own. The rest were distributed accordingly amongst the bays. She admired the breed for their resourcefulness and willingness to stretch across great expanses. She addressed Thomas and Miroslav equally.

“These horses are for endurance, they will do you well in your journey. Just remember, they too, will need rest in the scorching sun and water to soothe parched throats.” Her wings twitched as she gave a silent command for her sisters to leave. Once they had gone into the night, she addressed the mortal company again.

“Be wary of this desert, all of you.” She made eye contact with each of the company. “A magic lurks here that wishes to claim you for the Erovíere’s own. Ride to the east, to the ridge of the hills, that is the fastest way to get you home. Make sure you do not delay. And remember, only you and yourselves are real, the rest is an illusion.”

She spoke words of wisdom but only three in the company knew to what magic she was referring. He bowed his head and thanked her and then Göndul was off, flying high into the sky with little more than a shimmer of moonlight on her golden wings before even that faded into the black of night.

“What magic? Is it dark?” Marco asked, forever wary of black magic after what the dragon had done that morning.

“No.” Mario answered, urging his horse into line gently as the others began to set off in the easterly direction that Göndul had indicated. “It is not black magic.”

“Then what is it?” Bastian asked when Marco remained silent.

This time, it was Benedikt who answered from behind the boy.

“It is ambivalent, neither light or dark. The desert has a will of her own; she always wants to imprison those who dare cross her and keep them here, forever.”

“Does she win?” Bastian asked and then immediately wondered why the desert was referred to as a she. How could a desert be classified a gender?

Miroslav answered this time. “More than she loses. That is why we must be careful and respectful to her.”

Tobias turned ever so slightly to look over his shoulder at his brother. “Just remember what the Valkyrie said. Be wary of deceptions here.”

Bastian thought about that as he rode, as always, next to Lukas in the middle. In front of him, Tobias and Marco formed a pair. In front of his brother and the Guradsman were Thomas and Miroslav. Directly behind Lukas and himself and arranged into another pair, Benedikt rode with Manuel, while Mario and Mats brought up the rear. It was in this formation that the entire group trotted along at a fairly steady clip across the rocks and sands of the Erovíere.

After a long while and several miles and with the wonders of the desert still remaining hidden in the dark, the group had stopped at last to set up camp. Worn and weary from the day’s exertions, Miroslav had set up wards around the campsite to warn him if anything malevolent in intention or deed approached and let them all have a good night’s rest. They were too exhausted to worry about anything, including lighting a fire, except falling asleep under the vast star-filled sky. So it was there, under a thousand scintillations in the sky, that the company fell into a much-needed restful doze.

\---

They were at home again and it was another perfect summer’s night. The sound of crickets mixed with the elusive cicadas while the heat of the day desperately tried to cling to the air of the night. Their windows were open as they lay together on Bastian’s bed, listening to the quiet of it.

“Do you ever miss it?” Lukas asked quietly, his fingers lingering in Bastian’s hair.

“The dragon?” Bastian asked earning a soft ‘mmm-hmmm’ from Lukas. He shook his head, pressing himself closer to the hand that was creating a content, warmth feeling in all of his body just by simply stroking his hair. “No. I’d much rather be here, with you, for the rest of my life.”

He heard Lukas laugh softly.

“And so it shall always be, my love. So it shall always be.”

\---

The sound of a fly was distant, but still close enough to be aggravating, as it mixed with the song of the birds. Sun filtered through the holes in the canopy of the Brundagir’s newer forest. Manuel was showing him his home, the forest of his childhood, and Mario felt honored to be granted the privilege.

He had always liked the man from the moment he saw him in the mountains just after he had saved him. They had grown close in the days after the mountain, as they had crossed the desert together. They had defeated the dragon and peace had reigned around the kingdom. All was well.

Mario never thought he would be happy except for when he was at home, in the small village in the mountains, near the fork in the creek that led to Båal where his entire life was hidden away in the pines and cold climate that seemed to be constantly shrouded in mist.

“I grew up in a forest, also.” Mario had said once somewhere along the road and on the way to the last fight with the dragon. Manuel had been listening, though it hadn’t appeared so at the time, Mario had remembered. It wasn’t until much later that he realized just how well Manuel had been listening. The other man had brought him here, to the new forest of the Brundagir after the final battle and they stood in a sun-filled glen.

“This is the forest of my childhood. One day, you can show me yours.” Manuel said, promising with his eyes that he would be more than delighted if Mario showed him the mountains which he knew better than the back of his hand.

Mario moved closer, kissing the blond softly across the lips. Their first kiss. He spoke in the elven language to make the words more real.

“ _It would be my utmost pleasure._ ”

Manuel smiled and Mario felt a warmth spread in his belly at the sight of it as the other man took his hand and led him through the trees of the forest and into the waiting arms of the birds’ song.

\---

He could hear it again, he had always heard it on this adventure, but he could truly _hear_ it again. It was real. He could feel it. The taste of the sea, the smell of the salt, and the dampness that clung to everything in the humid air, it was as if he were home again. Everything, from the water crashing against his hull to the rolling of the ship in the ocean. He was home. It was his at last. _The Poisoned Hades_ was his again.

A bright smile crossed his face and he reached out to grasp the smooth wood of the wheel. He looked over the horizon and saw endless blue of the Southern sea. He could go anywhere. He was, for the first time in forever, truly _free_.

“Are you going to stand there all day, or come with me?” A voice called to him from the side and Mats looked over, a grin breaking out across his face when he saw his lover’s intention.

Benedikt was pulling his shirt over his head; he had already removed his leather breeches. He was standing, holding the rope that led upwards to the crow’s nest, and looked at Mats with a raised eyebrow. Mats made a great show of stretching, considering, and looking his lover’s body over with great pleasure to himself.

“I suppose I could force myself to join you, Zaubermaus.” He grinned as Benedikt rolled his eyes before he took and held a breath and then dove over the side into the sparkling clear water below.

Laughing, Mats stood at the edge of the rail of his ship and looked down below. He could see Benedikt smiling at him, splashing water up in his direction, but unable to reach him because the ship was too high from the water.

“Join me!” Benedikt said, smile on his face. Mats didn’t dare resist. He climbed up and stood on the rail and prepared to dive in to the ocean below.

Just before he pushed off the rail, something jerked hard on his back, causing Mats to stumble slightly. Another rough jerk occurred and Mats felt himself falling backwards, away from Benedikt’s smiling face, away from the lull of the ocean, and away from the promise of a cool bath of seawater against his skin.

Mats opened his eyes and saw Benedikt behind him with wide-eyes and watching him as if he were a wild animal that was cornered into something.

“What? What’s going on? Why are you looking at me like that?” Mats asked, disoriented. Where was the sun? Where was the sea? Why was his Zaubermaus dressed again? He rubbed his head, it felt as if someone had knocked him out, but no lumps or sore spots revealed themselves to him.

“Mats…come with me.” Benedikt was saying, gently. Mats still couldn’t understand why he was being treated this way. “Just follow me back, this way.”

Benedikt was offering him his hand and Mats wondered what had caused this sudden change when he felt a chill. He looked away from Benedikt from the first time and that’s when he realized just what was concerning his Kuschelbär so much.

Mats was standing on the very steep edge to a very steep cliff that led to the sun-bleached canyon below. He had to squint to see the bottom and from there he thought he could make out jagged teeth of rocks. He almost lost his balance just looking down. He snapped his head back to Benedikt and almost grabbed the man’s hand as if it were a rope and he was drowning at sea.

With great effort, Benedikt pulled him up the ledge that he had been standing on and there was more room there, but not much. Still, it was enough to let Mats relaxed. He wasn’t feeling as if his death would be imminent anymore. Plus, Benedikt was still holding his hand extremely tightly and their chests were almost touching. Mats leaned against the canyon wall that was behind them and took a deep breath; he still hadn’t recovered from almost jumping over the side of a cliff.

“What did you see?” Benedikt asked, not moving away and not letting go of Mats’ hand.

“What do you mean?” Mats asked, enjoying this new view of the blond from up-close. Benedikt had never been this close to him before.

“The desert’s spell. It can cause you to hallucinate. Several of the others had similar experiences throughout the night. What did you see?”

Mats found himself getting lost in the color of Benedikt’s eyes. They were the same color as his precious Southern Sea, the same blue that reflected the sky so effortlessly. They were beautiful, just as his ocean was beautiful.

“You.” He answered truthfully. For once, Benedikt did roll his eyes or reply with a quip or other sarcasm. Instead, he breathed his words in the small distance of space between them.

“You should try being honest more often. It suits you.”

“Never darling, never.” Mats felt a smirk forming on his lips, but Benedikt covered it before it could form properly with his lips as they kissed. Benedikt wound the hand that wasn’t holding Mats’ in the other man’s dark curls and tugged slightly, earning a groan from the pirate.

The morning sun broke then, over the canyon that stretched beneath them, bathing their bodies in the glow of a red-rising sun’s morning.


	18. The Company Disbands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few chapters left, grab the popcorn, it's going down!
> 
> And thus the beginning of the end begins...

By the time Benedikt and Mats had returned to the company, nearly a half hour after Mats was pulled from his trance, the unusually realistic hallucination’s affects were wearing off of those that had been affected. Still sensitive to the lure of the desert was Bastian, who had never been privy to being under the influence of such magic before. Lukas was holding him and Tobias was speaking softly to keep him in the present and not retreating back to where they had found him, about to fall backwards into a pit.

Miroslav waited until everyone had returned. He noticed with his watchful eyes that Mats and Benedikt had seemed to put their animosity aside and had bonded, though he didn’t ask nor did he want to know in what way. That was their business and he was more than content to let them have their secrets. He looked to the sky and let his magic expand so that he could get a feel of the ground and the land. A plan was formulating in his mind; he knew who he thought was behind the dragon and the death of his friend, but he had to prove it. He had to draw them out, and that would not be easy. The man had been hiding his true nature for over twenty years.

He called their attention back to him and the company gathered around and gave him their undivided attention. He nodded to Thomas and the newly adorned king nodded back. They had discussed this while waiting for the others to recover from their delirium.

“We will have to move quickly, our enemy does not wait for us. I am unsure if he still thinks we are dead or if he has discovered otherwise. Once we cross Erovíere and enter into the plains of Adoras, we will divide our company.”

The knowledge that everything was real and very grave indeed struck each member of the company in a different way. For some it was the excitement of a real challenge, others it was the lull in the afternoon before the storm crashed down all night. Apprehension struck a few but fear held the attention of no one. All wanted to contribute and prove worthy enough that the could defeat this foe. That was, until, Thomas spoke to pick up where Miroslav had left off.

He turned to face Mario and Benedikt. “I cannot ask you to come further, for this was never your quest. You are free to return home to the mountains and none of us will think worse of you for doing so.”

The two hunters looked to one another for a brief moment. Benedikt was still next to Mats, whose expression had hardened slightly, thought not for malice against anyone, but for fear that Benedikt would actually go home. He had finally gotten through to the man that there was a connection between the two of them; he didn’t want that to be lost now. Mario still stood where he had, alone but nearer Manuel than anyone else.

“We will stay.” Benedikt answered, causing Mats to relax and Thomas to nod appreciatively.

“Thank you, then. You will be rewarded when this is all over.”

“If we survive.” Mario replied, a slight smile crossing his face. “Which I am assured we will; I have no desire to see the Valkyrie again so soon, unless it is to get us there faster.”

Thomas smiled a little at that before he turned then to face the two boys that should never have joined them, but their lightheartedness had given many nights of tranquility to the group. However, Thomas would not risk them injury.

“When we are close enough, you two are to depart our side and return home to East Milton.” Lukas and Bastian opened their mouth to protest but Thomas would hear none of it. He held up a hand to silence them, after a moment they did. “I appreciate the both of you, more than most things. I am grateful to have met and known you both. However, I cannot be responsible if you are harmed during the course of our campaign. I will have you return home where you will be safe from the dragon, this conjurer, and all dangers that wait in Ansieál.”

Bastian had formed into a pout and Lukas’ eyes danced with unhappiness.

“We will say no more on this subject. I promise once this is over and I am able, I will come see you with your reward.” Thomas said and the two boys looked to Miroslav to protest. He shook his head slightly and they seemed to shrink into one another. Thomas felt bad for it, but he was going to keep them safe, he had to. He couldn’t be responsible for two pure of heart souls such as Bastian and Lukas to be harmed in his name. He couldn’t.

Tobias, who was still near at hand from the recovery of Bastian’s dream, squeezed his brother’s shoulder and stayed close to him.

“As for the rest of you,” Miroslav interrupted the disappointed tone, “this is what we are to do…”

As the sun rose higher, the plans of the King and the Wizard were laid out to those who would be privy to taking back the capital of Antiá. A plan was created, improved upon, and soon they were all on their way south to see it out.

\---

_His voice was wretched as the fear of losing everything most important to his entire world became more and more of a possibility with each passing moment. He stood at the top of the mountain, bent on hands and knees, while the tears ran unchecked down his face. The Dark One stood in front of him. If anyone could do what needed to be done, it would be him. He had to try. He had to save her, and their child._

_“Please, please, just save them.” He begged, head bowed as he stared at the sorcerer’s boots._

_“What do I get in return? Another mouth to feed in this already densely populated kingdom of ours? What incentive would I have to help you?” His voice was cruel, but the man was right. What could he offer that would be worth enough to save his wife and his child?_

_He looked up with heartbroken, desperate eyes. “Anything, I’ll do anything you ask. Just please, **please** save her, my Lord.”_

_A smile that rendered him chilled to the bone spread across the Dark One’s face._

_“Very well then. I know just the thing we can use you for.”_

_The man closed his eyes as tears slid down his cheeks. Relief and fear mixed strangely as the Dark One cast his spell._

\---

It was another two days before the company finished crossing the desert and rode past the hills that bordered it on the east. They had entered the plains on the evening of that second day and rode hard across the tall-grasses. The stallions that the Valkyrie had provided them with were great creatures of endurance indeed, as they tired little and could last long stretches without rest.

On the eve of the first full day in Adoras, the wizard has initiated the plan and Tobias left the group of the company and headed towards the capital alone. It was also then when Miro told Lukas and Bastian that they were nearing the point where they would have to go their separate ways. He clasped them about the shoulder and listened as they protested that they would be valuable. A kindness was in Miroslav’s eye as he spoke to them.

“I know you would be beneficial. I, more than anyone, enjoy your company. You remind me of better days.” He said to the pair of them as they walked through the grass and into the privacy of distance from the rest of the company. His voice had grown sad and both boys wondered what could be troubling their leader. They knew him now to be a wizard, though they had suspected it early on, and Bastian wondered more than Lukas as to what the man’s life had been like. He had lived it so long.

“Friend,” Bastian started, “of what days do you speak?”

Miro shook his head, slight smile playing on his lips. In some ways he appeared much older than when they had first met him in the tavern in East Milton. Then again, Lukas thought, everyone seemed much older than that night.

“That is too long of a story to tell, Bastian.” Miroslav squeezed the boy’s shoulder, kindness still in his eyes. “As I was saying, this is for your own protection. I promise one day we will meet again. By sending you away like this, that insures we _will_ meet again in this life, rather than in Valhalla or beyond.”

Lukas moved then and hugged Miroslav the way a small child would hug a parent. Miro’s arms wrapped around the boys, because Bastian moved also, and he held them both for a long while. Miroslav felt their energies and he smiled a little. Never had he met two pure-of-heart humans the way these two boys were. He still wondered at what they were; Tobias had said there had never been any indication that Bastian possessed magical ability, and the same for Lukas. They were still an anomaly that Miro had every intention of getting to the bottom of before his days were over.

“Come now,” Miroslav said, his voice having to work a little harder to escape from his throat as the emotion took him for a moment, “that’s enough of this. I will see you again, you have my word.”

Bastian nodded and looked sadly at Miroslav. He still didn’t want to go but there was no arguing it. He couldn’t disobey the king’s order and Miroslav had also dispatched him. The one man who could protest the king wasn’t going to, so their fates were sealed. They would have to return home.

The final night of the company together was a somber one. Every one knew their roles and their purpose, but they wondered on the culprit of their quest. It had seemed unlikely at first, the real villain of this story, but the more they thought about it the more it made sense. There really was only one true enemy who hid in the shadows of the kingdom and could do anything he liked without punishment.

Miroslav’s mind was overtaxed with thinking on it. There were a few small things that didn’t make sense so he tried to find rational explanations for those missing pieces. Try as he might to make the pieces fit into the puzzle, they seemed to change shape so they would not fit. He would have to think on it some more before he would be satisfied. 

\---

An hour passed after the company had said goodbye to the boys and had continued to ride east. Another two hours passed before the company truly disbanded. Mats and Benedikt rode to the south, headed for the coast as fast a clip as they could manage. Mario went with them. Only Marco, Manuel, the King and the Wizard remained as they continued their normal route towards the capital.

Several more hours passed as they drew nearer to the castle in Ansieál. Thomas felt more and more anxious as well as angry as the miles fell away. He had been betrayed by someone he had trusted, his uncle murdered by the same man, and he couldn’t stand the thought of such disloyalty. It was a monstrous act, to kill the sovereign of the land, but to have done so in such a manner was unspeakable.

They crested a rise in the ground, looking down to the capital at long last. It had been weeks since Thomas had seen it. The castle sat at the edge of the Western Fork of the river, the hills of Carda stretching out leisurely on the other side of the river. The sun was headed down now, soon it would be behind them as the Western Mountains swallowed it whole. His home felt strange and otherworldly. It was not the welcoming place he had left behind. The King was dead, his home was unsafe, and he had to find a way to fix it. He had never been more glad for Miroslav’s presence by his side.

He looked at the wizard then and saw great trials on the wizard’s face. His face was lined with worry, etched with concern, and his eyes remained on the capital below. Still, Thomas found him the most handsome man he had ever seen and wished to tell him that. He remained silent. There would be time enough for that later, once this was over.

“It is somber down there,” Manuel remarked, also watching the city. The once bright red and blue pennants that would adorn the city were gone, replaced with black flags and colors.

“They are mourning the king.” Marco returned. “Of course they are somber.”

“I don’t like it.” Manuel replied, shifting on his horse unsteadily, a frown on his face. “I do not like this at all.”

Miroslav nodded, still not looking away from the city. The gate had started to raise and a herd of horsemen were leaving the city’s walls. _So it begins_ , Miro thought as he watched the very distinguishable Royal Guard leave the city and start for the hill on which they waited.

“Just remember the plan,” he restated for the hundredth time in two days. “Remain calm and act as though you know nothing.”

Thomas looked again at the wizard then. It would be hard to act as though he didn’t know who was behind his uncle’s death. It would be impossible not to want to strangle and harm that man. Still, he had pretended lots of stories when he was young many times before, he could pretend this scenario also.

The Guard approached and Marco straightened in his seat. He was the leader of them by de jure right; he recognized his second in command at the head of the column. The horses the Royal Guard rode on were the traditional size of the land, large and exceptionally muscular. Once they would arrive, their horses would dwarf the stallions of the Valkyrie. Easily they could be overpowered if it came to that, despite the speed and skill of the horses they were on.

“Master Reus, long time no see,” the second in command and leader de facto, Sebastian Kehl remarked once the Guard’s company was close enough at hand. “I’m pleased to see you, though I wish you had been here sooner. We could have used you.”

Marco nodded, playing his part. “We have heard news of the king from our travels. Was he truly murdered?”

Sebastian nodded, before bowing in the presence of Thomas. “My lord, we are pleased to see you are unharmed after the rumors…”

“What rumors?” Thomas asked sharply, eyes narrowed before he remembered he was to relax and be the natural, jovial boy everyone knew him to be.

“The rumors that you and your company had come to harm in the mountains. I am glad to see these rumors were false.” Sebastian replied, rising from the bow.

“Did you find my Uncle, our King’s, murderer?” Thomas asked, authoritative voice in full effect. “Or was the city too busy listening to idle gossip?”

Miroslav watched Thomas out of the corner of his eye. He was being the ruler that he was meant to be. He was dismissing the rumors in the mountains as false, while showing that he had control of the situation, thought that could be nothing further from the truth. They had no control here except for the surprise they would instill should they need it. Miroslav had a feeling they were going to need it.

“We have mourned the king, and are still in our days of mourning for him. His killer has not been found, though we are chasing the leads.” Sebastian replied.

Marco shook his head and looked at the company that Kehl had brought with him. Many were his friends, many he had known his whole life and had fought beside. He hoped they would see the correct path and that they could be saved. Still, he would not hesitate to harm the ones that would see his king, Thomas, in danger.

“I will go with them, sire,” Marco said. “To help increase the pace of their investigations.”

Thomas nodded and lifted a hand to indicate he was to go back. “Rejoin your duties, Master Guardsman. I think you will be needed here.”

Marco nodded and moved into rank beside and slightly in front of Sebastian. As he had predicted, he was dwarfed by the larger horse. Still, he sat high on the back of the wonderful horse that had led him out of the desert. He exchanged a look with first Thomas, then Miroslav, and finally Manuel as all four of them had realized the same thing.

As they had been speaking to the de facto leader of the Royal Guard, they had all noticed something incredibly uncomfortable about the entire collection of them. All of them appeared to have the same cloudy-eye condition that Bastian, Mats, and Mario had had in Erovíere, as if they were in a dream that was all-too realistic and, to them, was as real as any other day in life and not possibly a dream.

Someone had bewitched the Royal Guard. Someone who had been expecting their return.


	19. The Plan in Motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last time I will post until I post the ending to the story, which I will do as soon as I have typed it up and made it to my satisfactions. Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story, a bigger thanks to those of you who have commented on it. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the ending as soon as it's up. There's a final three chapters after this one, not all of my cards have been played yet ;)
> 
> Enjoy! :D

In the port of Thrush at the confluence of the Great and the Easterly Rivers a rather busy trading post had formed. It was a handy place to find anything you could want, because everyone traded from there. Travellers from all over Antiá would make their way to Thrush to trade whatever they could for as much as they could. It was a town rife with business, and a darkness to its underbelly. Perhaps it was that reason that Mats loved Thrush more than most cities.

“We can find whatever we need, here.” Mats had told them earlier as he had strolled through the city as if he were a fine gentleman, rather than a thief and a pirate. “Just watch.”

While they had been away from the company, they had amassed a small crew of men, mostly foreigners from the Otherlands that didn’t speak elvish at all, and barely any of the common tongue either. They could sail a ship and follow orders though, and that’s what Mats had hired them for. When it had come to payment, he had simply said that they would be paid ‘upon delivery of their services’. He really hoped the new king survived this entire ordeal. Thomas would owe him, rather these men, a good fair wage for their service.

The ship had set sail from Thrush on the schedule that Miroslav had given them, when the sun had begun to make its final arch for the day down to the horizon. They would have several more hours of daylight left, but they first had to make their way up-river. Mats manned the helm while his hired crew followed his orders.

Benedikt watched as Mats steered the ship, with his eyes only focused on the direction of North. For a moment, Benedikt watched the man that he had spent as much time as they could afford in the past two days kissing as if they would die. Likely, they would not come through this entire ordeal without some scar to always carry with them, and that was if they were lucky. Benedikt looked back over the bow of the ship and saw the trees giving way and the city of Ansieál appearing in the distance.

It was now or never at all. Benedikt hoped he could live long enough to find out if this thing, whatever it was, with Mats would last longer than a fortnight. He was getting too old for this shit. He moved back to where Mats was standing and looked at the pirate.

Quietly, he spoke as he leaned close to Mats. “This isn’t even your ship is it?”

Mats looked over with a smirk that faded into a grin. His eyes twinkled. “Not even close, Zaubermaus. It’s not even close.”

Benedikt resisted a sigh and shook his head. To say that Mats was incorrigible was an understatement. He wasn’t even going to waste his breath. Instead, Benedikt slid an arm around Mats from behind and rested his head on the other man’s shoulder. He could feel the muscles rippling under Mats’ back. He wanted to kiss those muscles, explore them with his hands and lips. There would be time for that later, he hoped.

Mats spared a moment to rest a hand over Benedikt’s as he kept his eyes on Ansieál that was looming ever larger in the distance.

\---

The slow clang of church bells in the wind was the only greeting for the four remaining members of the company as they were led by the enchanted Guard back into the city walls. As they walked by the bell tower, they saw an uneasy sight: no one was ringing the bells, only the wind moved the giant chimes. Everything appeared to be cloaked in a shroud of lethargy, even the wind. No one smiled that could see them on the street, no one raised a hand in greeting for their Prince, now-King. No one appeared to look at them at all. The entire feeling of it set the hairs on the back of Thomas’ neck rising like the sun in the morning.

The sound of horses moving through the cobbled streets mixed with the tolling bells and the whole scene had the sense of a mouse moving around the edge of bait on a trap. After several minutes of travelling through the seemingly empty city despite the population, they arrived at the gate for the castle that separated it from the city. Under the portcullis they went and into the stone courtyard of the castle. Waiting on the steps was Joachim himself.

Once he saw Thomas, he bowed respectfully, and the sound of bells faded into the distance as the man’s appearance drew their attention. They had hoped he wouldn’t be there for their arrival, but had planned for it just in case. It was a good thing that they had. Joachim rose from his bow and addressed Thomas, keeping his eyes on the heir. For his credit, the man appeared moved to see Thomas, though the new King and the wizard knew he likely felt otherwise.

“I am so relieved to see you delivered home safely and soundly, Sire.” Joachim’s smooth voice carried across the expanse of stone to them.

Thomas did not reply, simply dismounted along with Marco, Manuel, and Miroslav and half of the enchanted guard. _Pretend, pretend_ , he told himself as he regarded the man that had been the closest of all to his Uncle. The man who had helped raise Thomas when he was a boy. The man who knew the secrets of the kingdom just as well as any royal ever could. The man who had betrayed them all. The traitor responsible for Jürgen’s death. Joachim. _Jogi._

Miraculously, Thomas did not give away the game by running forward and strangling him at first sight. He thought he earned some credit for that. It took every ounce of his acting ability to keep his tone level, authoritative, but not accusatory.

“Tell me the news of my Uncle’s passing. We have not heard much on the road.” Thomas led the group inside the castle, keeping Joachim at his side. He wasn’t going to dare let the other man see his back. He was no coward, and he didn’t trust Joachim behind him anyway. Sebastian and a few of the other guard followed them all from behind, though at a distance.

Joachim did not seem to mind the shoulder-to-shoulder walk, for he had done it many times with Jürgen over the course of all those years. Thomas felt as if he was going to be sick as his stomach turned at the thought. How could Jogi, _Jogi_ , have betrayed his Uncle this way? Why? That’s all he wanted to know, why?

He had so many accusations that he longed desperately to lay at the feet of Joachim, but he could not. Not yet. Miroslav had made him promise that he would be in control of his actions. Miroslav had asked him to trust him one final time, promising Thomas that he would make sure all was answered for. Miro had begged him to play the role of unsuspecting king. Thomas had agreed, promising the wizard anything he asked was exceptionally easy. There was no one he would trust more, with his kingdom, his life, _his heart_ , no one. Miroslav could have it all.

Joachim was speaking again, this time about the king and his sudden illness and the promised inquiries into finding someone who may have wanted to cause the king harm. Thomas wanted to shout out ‘enough of this farce!’ but with one look to Miroslav, he did not. He would honor his promise, though it was taking a great deal of restraint to do so. As Joachim explained his investigation, he acted as though it truly was as he had said and that he was not responsible.

Thomas almost could believe him. More than a little piece of him desperately wanted to believe that Miroslav was wrong, that there was no way Jogi— _Jogi_ , Jürgen’s best friend and possibly more if rumors were to be true—could have done this. _Why? Why did you do it?_ Joachim was even looking upset, a small tear was making its way down his cheek.

They had arrived in the entry hall of the castle, the one that every corridor, hallway, staircase led away from. The true heart of the castle. High above them, there was a glass-covered roof that let the natural light stream into the heart of the castle. The kings of long ago had designed it this way. This room had been Jürgen’s favorite place to receive courtiers, guests, family. He did not care so much for the throne room with its giant map on the floor. This room, filled with music and sunlight, had been his favorite place.

Once they had entered the room, Thomas had noticed it had been dwarfed in size thanks to the large, marble object in the center of the room. It was Jürgen’s tomb. Set atop it was so lifelike an effigy of Thomas’ uncle that it looked as if the white-marble statue would come to life and rise from the slab on which it rested. For a few moments, Thomas forgot himself completely as he moved over to rest his hand on the smooth stone that housed his Uncle’s remains. His eyes closed and he swallowed hard. The boyish part of him that longed to see the man who he considered his father, though he knew it was untrue, once again rose high into his throat and he felt the tears.

Göndul’s words came back to him as his head remained bowed over the tomb of Jürgen. He had gone in battle, the most honorable way to go, considering. Silently, Thomas made a vow to avenge Jürgen’s crown, his death. He promised his life if needed to see that Antiá would remain through the ages as it had always done.

Soft footsteps carried into the entry hall and the others, apart from Thomas, looked over to see the former king’s sister, Thomas’ mother, Klaudia enter the room. Miroslav bowed his head in respect to her, while the others bowed lower. She nodded in recognition before moving over to her son. She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder before she turned to address the others.

“If you would be so kind, gentlemen. I would like a few moments alone to console my son, the King.”

Miroslav nodded, giving the indication to Marco and Manuel that it was okay. He then looked at Joachim and spoke politely, as though they were just catching up after a few months away and that nothing was wrong.

“My friend, join us? Let us leave the king as his mother to their condolences.” Miroslav suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Joachim nodded and he even sniffled. “Of course. This way?” 

He gestured to one of the corridors and Miroslav let him lead them out of the entry hall. As he walked, he noticed that Sebastian and several other guardsmen had stayed behind. He gave a nod to Marco and the blond fell back slowly to wait and see if Thomas would need him.

Miroslav then turned his gaze back to Joachim’s back as the right hand of the former king led them further into the castle and towards the more private chambers inside the castle.

\---

The boys had dismounted and were leading their horses back at a slow, steady pace. The fields that they had traipsed over since they had learned how to walk surrounded them. The smell of earth was strong as the ground was fresh after a recent rainstorm.

“I can’t believe they would send us home like we were children.” Lukas was saying, echoing Bastian’s feelings on the subject completely. It wasn’t fair. Had they not been a member of the company during all the important parts? Had they not seen more than anyone from East Milton ever had? They had travelled to the Elven realm, no one they knew, not even the elders of the village, could say the same. Yet they were the only ones of the company that had been sent packing before the mission was over.

“Maybe they’re right,” Bastian sighed. He didn’t mean what he was saying, but he supposed someone should have said it out of propriety. “We are young, we didn’t have to fight. Besides, they’ll have everything sorted out by supper anyway. We would only have been in the way.”

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t, Basti.” Lukas replied quickly as he stopped. His horse took that moment to steal some of the sweet grass that was growing on the side of the trail that they were walking over to get back to the village.

“Fine, I don’t. But what can we do? Miroslav told us not to follow after them…” Bastian replied, in thought for a moment. 

“He was very clear about it.” Lukas nodded and agreed.

They looked into one another’s expressions as they both seemed to share the same thought. It truly was a good thing that they could practically read one another’s minds, as was their deep intense connection between one another. They arrived at the same conclusion at approximately the same time.

“He gave us very explicit instructions to not follow after them—”

“Very crystal clear he was, looked us right in the eye and all—”

“He knows how we are!”

“He knows what we’re like!”

“I can’t believe we were so stupid.”

“Of course he wants us to go after them!”

“We’re definitely going to be late!” They said in tandem. Moving over to remount their horses, they turned the ponies around and started in the direction of east. They were going to have to cut through the high crop of wheat that was nearing its time to be reaped, but they would deal with that later.

They set off at full speed towards the east, and towards the capital, excitement rushing through them both. Miroslav had been so clear in his instruction not to follow that there really was only one thing they could do with that information. That was to follow the company. They hadn’t been excluded, only made to appear as if they had. Genius.

Their exuberance faded, however, when a large shadow flew over their heads, also in the easterly direction. They pulled their horses up as they got a long, long look at the massive scaled underbelly of the dragon. Its wings easily spanned the stretch of the entire main road of East Milton and a great breeze was caused as it flapped them to maintain its height.

Bastian swallowed hard. He hoped they could make it back before the dragon did. He gave one nod to Lukas and then they both hunched low over the necks of their stallions. Clucking their tongues gently, they urged their ponies into a gallop and headed for Ansieál.


	20. The Nature of the Dark One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it goes! All is about to be revealed!

Joachim had led Miroslav and Manuel to one of the king’s former chambers, a room he had used as a study and library. There were several large windows that overlooked the hills of Carda that lay to the east of the city. Above this room there were only a few more floors, and then the towers that had once been used for guards, but now were used more for storage than anything else. There had been no great battle since the end of the Iron Age, thus no need for anything to be guarded. That was as it had once been, Miro reflected for a moment with great sadness. He wondered in this new Age would that be the same or would it come to pass differently?

“I _am_ pleased to see you’ve returned unharmed, Miroslav. The most awful rumors were spreading around here.” Joachim spoke as he moved into the room, back to the wizard and the best soldier in the kingdom as if he really didn’t care that they could cause him harm if they wished. Miroslav was not buying the innocence that Joachim was selling. He was sure of who the traitor was, it all made sense. There was no one with the opportunity, means or motive, that could have carried out such a plan, except for Joachim.

“Such as?” He asked, to say something. He let his senses do a minor check of the room to see if any dark magic was lingering. The room was humming with it.

“Such as the dragon had found you, eaten you, and spat your bones into an abyss. I’m glad to see that’s not the case.” Joachim faced them them, a smile on his face. For the first time his expression belied the act he had been portraying. 

“You smile easily for someone who has lost a dear friend.” Manuel stated, his hands rested by his side but could easily move to grasp the handle of his sword, should it be needed. Miroslav watched Joachim’s reaction, the smile stayed in place as the man sat down in what had once been Jürgen’s chair.

“I am an expert on many things, proficient in even more. Controlling my emotions is one task I excel in.”

Miroslav stared into the other man’s eyes for a moment. He had had enough. The secrets were ready to be ousted and enough games had been played. He tapped his fingers on the back of the wingback chair that was in front of him, beside the fireplace.

“I would think so, since you have lied to us all for over twenty years, Joachim.”

“In what regard have I lied to you, Miroslav?” Joachim asked with a raised eyebrow. Miro’s rare temper had begun to spark to life.

“Enough games!” Miroslav said louder than he ended. His tone growing cold with his weariness of this game. “Enough jests, enough taunts, enough secrets. Enough, enough, enough. We know what you have done, Joachim. We know just how it was that Jürgen died. May his ghost haunt you in the next life.”

To mention the ghost of someone recently departed, let alone curse someone with that spirit, was a bold move. Even Joachim knew that. Manuel watched Miroslav warily out of the corner of his eye. Spirits and demons was a whole other realm of dark magic, one he did not care to partake in. He took a step to the side, though he still remained close to the wizard.

Joachim’s smile faded, though his eyes seemed to grow darker. “That is not a nice thing to say about one’s dearest friend, Miroslav.”

“If he was your dearest friend, then why did you kill him?” Miroslav asked, his magic growing stronger as his anger rose. “Why, Joachim? What did you have to gain?”

Joachim folded his hands in his lap, appearing the perfect picture of calm. He did not get angry, nor flustered, at the accusations laid before him.

“What proof do you have that I had anything to do with Jürgen—my _friend’s_ —death? What proof do you have, Miroslav? Or do you just speak in pretty words and riddles that none of us are to know the truth behind? Who is to say you did not do it yourself, hmm?”

“I have witnesses that can attest to where I was at the time he died.” Miroslav countered quickly. “The proof I have comes from the creature _you_ enslaved.”

“The dragon? And you know as well as I, Miroslav, I do not have the magical abilities nor talents to carry out such a feat.” Joachim laughed then, laughed the way someone does when they hear a jest that is too incredible to be true. A laugh that sounded hollow and empty in the large room. Only the fireplace crackled to break the silence once Joachim had stopped his sound of mirth. Coldly, he watched Miroslav from across the room and spoke. “You have the power to do such a thing, Mirolsav. Again, I ask, who is to say you are not the one responsible for all of this?”

Manuel looked between them both. This time, when Joachim spoke, it had been to himself. He was very convincing with his words. Despite himself, Manuel looked at the man who he had spent the past several weeks of his life in the presence of. He had known tales of Miroslav since he was a boy, they all had. There was no one on this earth who could be trusted more. Miroslav the Wise, as he was known. There was no way he could have done such a thing.

But could Joachim have? The king’s best friend, the king’s most trusted advisor. Where one went the other was surely to be nearby, if not right behind. Joachim, the man whose counsel could be trusted because he, also, gave the best advice? Joachim, Jogi, the man who encouraged learning and skill to be developed between children in the kingdom. Jogi who was charitable with his time and his deeply-lined pockets. Joachim, who was a teacher among men, a leader among students. A man that anyone could admire. Could Joachim have done such a thing?

“Think about it, Manuel.” Joachim addressed him, his voice getting inside of Manuel’s head. Manuel made eye-contact with the dark eyes of the man he had known a great deal of his life. “Think about what Miroslav is saying. You know me, you know that you are far more powerful with magic than I ever could be. Do you have it within you to create and control a dragon? You know I don’t. But he does. Miroslav can. Just think about it, use your mind and see things rationally. What could I have possibly gained by doing this?”

Manuel took another step away from Miro as he watched the wizard with newfound skepticism. Joachim was right. Manuel had seen the extent of Joachim’s ability, it was minimal at best. Had he ever really seen the power in which Miroslav was capable? No. And Miroslav _had_ gone to speak to the dragon alone and returned unharmed…

“Manuel, listen to me and look into my eyes,” Miroslav spoke, meeting his eyes and trying to hold the contact there. “We have discussed this. Remember what you know to be the truth.”

Manuel blinked and tried to focus on Miroslav’s gaze, but the voice in his mind would not let him. He tried to fight the words inside of his mind but Joachim had raised questions that he did not have answers for. Joachim had brought him to the point of questioning their entire purpose out on the road. He had heard the tales of shapeshifters and time-travellers. Who was to say that Miro _hadn’t_ disappeared into the night, travelled on the wind, and killed Jürgen in the king’s bed? If anyone could have done it and returned without notice or censure, it was Miroslav.

Doubt began to creep into his mind, and his hand went around the handle of his sword. He wasn’t sure who to believe anymore. He really wanted to believe that Miroslav had not lied or deceived him, but his experience and life at court led him to think that Joachim was not capable of hurting anyone, least of all the King, who he had spent his entire life serving. He shook his head and wished to be out of that room entirely.

Miroslav watched as Manuel began to fall under the same enchantment that had claimed the town, and the Royal Guard. He did not feel disappointed for Manuel’s lack of faith. He did not sigh, he did not show resignation. He simply looked back to Joachim as Manuel continued to deal with the inner turmoil that Joachim was inflicting upon him.

“Enough parlor tricks, Joachim. Whatever voices you are putting inside of his mind, stop it.”

“You are a fool, Miroslav.” Joachim said once he felt Manuel slip into his possession. “Playing your hand and showing me your cards. That was a rather bad move, Wise One.” The mocking tone he had on the nickname that the mortals had given Miroslav was one that set the man’s teeth on edge.

“I know you are the monster behind this.” Miroslav returned, looking at the man who still had enough nerve to stay seated behind the desk. “I know what you have done.”

“Knowing and proving are two entirely different things.” Joachim said after a moment, his tone moved into the spectrum of light and cheery. It was unsettling. He glanced at Manuel and flicked his fingers to indicate the soldier to stand at the ready, hand on his sword. Joachim then turned back to face Miroslav. “Besides, Miroslav. I was not joking. I do not have the ability to create a dragon from a man, sheep, cow, or anything else for that matter.”

“You could have learned.” Miroslav replied and felt the instinctive need to raise the wards around himself in an effort to shield himself. Something was stirring in the room, the dark magic’s him grew louder.

“No, Miroslav. I couldn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter. Thomas will have you tried and executed for what you’ve done. He is the king now, he has more power than you and he always will.” Miroslav could not keep the pride out of his voice when he spoke of the man who had done wonderfully throughout the campaign of the company.

“You know, Miroslav. I’m not sure that he will.” Joachim stood then, stood and moved around the desk. He leaned on the edge of it as he crossed his arms. The sound of a knob turning behind him, had Miroslav glance to the right where the door to the corridor outside was.

In walked Thomas with Marco on his flank. Turning back to Joachim.

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” Miroslav asked, as he watched the man from across the room.

“Take him, Sebastian. Take him to the dungeon.” Thomas’ voice rang out across the room and Miroslav felt relieved. It was all to be over soon. Joachim would have a trial, be found guilty, and all would be over. So why was the other man smirking?

Miroslav glanced over when he heard footsteps on the carpet. Then he noticed Sebastian and the guard, who Miroslav knew to be called Lukasz, were coming for _him_ and not Joachim. Glancing quickly at Thomas, Miroslav felt his heart drop. He saw the clouded gaze that Marco, Sebastian, Lukasz, and even now Manuel wore. He looked back to Joachim and narrowed his eyes.

“You will pay for this, Joachim. Mark my words.”

“No, Miroslav. You will.” It was another voice that had spoken the words. Another voice that had so quietly followed the others into the room. A voice that belonged to someone usually forgotten because of her quietness. And suddenly it all made sense. Joachim did not have the ability to change a man into a dragon, but someone else did. Someone that everyone usually forgot about because no one suspected her of ill will or malicious intent. Klaudia, who had the voice that belonged to the most powerful user of magic in the realm, apart from Miroslav himself.


	21. The Fall of the Scarlet Tower

Miroslav stared in disbelief at Thomas’ mother. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. The king’s sister?

“Why?” He asked staring at her, moving out of the way slowly of the advancing Sebastian and Lukasz. “What did Jürgen ever do that was so terrible you had to do _this_?”

Klaudia moved further into the room, her footsteps silent on the carpet as she moved. She rested her hand on Thomas’ shoulder and guided him ahead of her to stand next to Joachim. She then looked at Miroslav, who had significantly raised his guard against her and everyone else in the room.

“I wanted my love to be the king. Jürgen was healthy, it would have taken a long time. I’m impatient.” She replied with a shrug.

It was with nausea settling in his stomach that he noticed Klaudia had looked to Joachim when she refrerred to ‘her love’. Miroslav felt a new wave of concern wash over him as he looked at Thomas. If Klaudia was conspiring with Joachim for him to be king, then Thomas would have to go also. His head began to pound with the beginnings of a headache. This had escalated beyond what he thought it had been. It had gone from the betrayal of a friend to the betrayal of one ‘s kin. Miroslav now began to understand the Valkyrie’s words that had been imparted to him in Erovíere. He could understand how things would go from here and why Skuld had warned him the way she had.

Before anyone could speak further the sound of the portcullis being raised had Joachim going to the window to see what was going on. From the look on his face as he looked back to Klaudia, it would be hard to tell that anything was wrong. There was a slight narrowing of his eyes, but that was all. Miroslav could see the familiar look that effects someone when having a telepathic conversation, so he used a little bit of his own magic to move his mind’s eye to the window and look and see what had happened, though he could already guess.

Mats and the misfit crew he had found had arrived.

Taking the moment before Klaudia could come up with a plan, Miro recollected his presence as he side-stepped Lukasz, who was reaching for him, and he sent a burst of magic through the room in an effort to knock some sense into those who had been enchanted. Klaudia, realized what he was doing, and laughed.

“That won’t work, Miro. Unless I die, they shall all remain this way. And you wouldn’t dream of hurting me.” She smiled, delighted that she had won, and Miroslav felt as if she were stating the obvious.

“I suspected you had bound them to you, I was just checking. Thank you for confirming it for me.” Miroslav ducked a spell cast at his head, which went beyond him and struck a vase on the mantle, shattering it into thousands of pieces.

Joachim was making for the exit of the study with Sebastian, Marco, and Lukasz, while Klaudia and Miroslav exchanged spells between them. He had not dueled with the witch in a long time before this moment, and he suspected that was her doing. She had not wanted to let him practice. They moved around the room in a dance of black magic versus the white light. Thomas and Manuel were alarmingly at the perimeter every chance he saw and he didn’t want one of them to stray into the path of one of their curses.

With careful footwork and methodical patience, Miroslav was easing Klaudia out of the door to the study and into the corridor beyond. She realized what he was doing, so she stopped attacking for a moment, raising her protective spells as she did so.

“Just let it go Miroslav. Admit defeat. The kingdom is ours.” She said, looking him in the eye.

“If you believed that truly, then you would not have said so.” Miroslav replied and she disengaged him and turned for the corridor’s staircase.

Miroslav took a moment to catch his breath before he realized that Manuel and Thomas were still behind him and not themselves. Sure enough, as he looked over his shoulder, they had started towards him. He turned to face them, but he kept a distance between them. He wasn’t stupid.

“Thomas, listen to my voice and think of all the times we have spent together. Think of your childhood when we would sit atop the Scarlet Tower and look at the stars and the moon.” When Thomas did not seem to be listening at all, Miroslav continued. “Think of all the nights we spent in the mountains, telling stories and listening to the others. It’s okay to admit it, Thomas. It’s okay to admit your feelings to me. I have suspected them a long time and it’s okay.”

Miroslav mentioned the One connection, the one he suspected Thomas felt for him. The power of the One could conquer many things. But as Thomas’ expression stayed clouded over, Miroslav knew that Klaudia’s spell and her magic was too great a force to be reckoned with by the One Love’s own powerful enchantment.

Miro tried the same on Manuel, reminding him of his childhood, his friends, the time spent on the company. All to no avail as he was backed further down the corridor, towards the stairs. Eventually, Miroslav suppressed a sigh as he turned and started quickly for the staircase. He was going to have to do something about Klaudia, though it made his heart heavy to have to even suggest such a thing. She had been one of his greatest pupils, and now he would have to destroy her.

\---

Mats, Benedikt, and their bought crew had arrived at the landing of Ansieál without so much as a spy or lookout to hinder them. They had crept through the lifeless city unaltered because of a potion that Miroslav had made them drink, which they in turn had given to their crew. Mats wasn’t sure what had been in it; according to Benedikt, it had incense infused with masterwort in it, whatever that meant.

However, there was no disguising them when they had had to raise the gate to enter the castle. It was just too loud. They moved in and before the gate had closed behind them, there the Royal Guard were, waiting to defend the castle as they poured into the courtyard from the great hall.

A man, who Mats recognized to be Joachim, the second to the old king, came out of the building. He knew this was who Miroslav had said to blame for the entire altercation so he was extremely watchful of the man.

“Who are you? What business do you have here?” He asked with narrowed eyes.

“I would have thought it obvious, sir.” Mats raised his sword as did the rest of his crew who followed his lead. “We came to sack and pillage, clearly.”

“Why don’t you come back some other time and we’ll discuss it?” Joachim asked sarcastically as he turned his back and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Sebastian, the captain of the guard de facto, stepped to take over his place.

Before Mats could react further, the entire courtyard became swamped with shadow while a strong breeze came from overhead. The entire crew looked overhead and their eyes widened. Never before had they seen such a beast. Never before had one appeared to them. They stared at the monstrous creature with its spines, its scales, and its enormity. The dragon had arrived and was heading for the Scarlet Tower.

Mats turned back to Sebastian and the rest of the Guard. They appeared unfazed by the arrival of the creature. He shook his head. _Must have been a hell of a spell_ , he thought and then nodded to Benedikt, which he followed up with a wink. He caught the attention of the crew and raised his sword, its familiar weight bringing him a sense of calm and purpose.

“Tell me, Jogi,” Mats said to the retreating form of the man’s back, “you always knock up the king’s sister and produce the heir to the kingdom, or was this a one-time thing?”

While Joachim may not have had the ability to produce a dragon from a man, he could send a stinging spell, and that’s what Mats had to dodge as he laughed. Lunging forward, Mats drew Sebastian into a fight while Benedikt took another tall, blond guard who was over the man’s shoulder. The rest of the crew engaged the other members of the guard as Joachim drew his own sword to defend himself as well.

The battle in the courtyard was on.

\---

Miroslav climbed the stairs to the top of the tower as he had to dodge spells from two fronts now. Part of Klaudia’s enchantment over them had caused Thomas and Manuel to begin to attack him with magic, since they were no longer close at hand to do so with a sword. Miroslav climbed the steps of the tower as quickly as he could, pausing only to dodge into an alcove to avoid a curse. He could see Klaudia as she walked to the roof of the tower and that’s when he felt the entire column of rock shift as something heavy landed on top of it. Miroslav groaned. The dragon had returned.

Pushing the levels on his protective spells, Miroslav pushed out of the alcove and started for the door to the tower. This had to end before Klaudia set the whole capital to burn.

He arrived at the door and he realized that he couldn’t fight the witch, the dragon, and two enchanted guards. Sighing, he did the best thing he could though he hoped Thomas would forgive him for it one day. He sealed the door magically and caused the stairs in front of it to fall so that it would be much harder for anyone to cross and try to break the seal on the door. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it would not be easy.

“Very good, Miroslav. Though I’m still afraid you aren’t going to win.” She replied, stroking the side of the dragon’s face. It did not lean into her touch, Miroslav noted, and he looked into the eyes of the creature once more. The blue eyes looked sad. Miroslav could echo that sentiment.

“Your dragon is to stop me, now is he?” Miroslav asked with a raised eyebrow as he continued to keep his guard up.

“If I cannot, then yes.” Klaudia lifted her hand and an orb full of grey smoke began to form in her palm. “Cease and desist, Miroslav. You are not going to win.”

Miroslav shook his head and he heard the sound of the fight going on in the courtyard below. It sounded as if a great many swordsmen were having an all out duel down there. He did not dare look away form the witch and her conjuring though. He wasn’t going to be caught unawares. The dragon had curled itself around the length of the tower, so that his body was surrounding the top on three of the four sides, and the fourth side led to the door that Manuel and Thomas were waiting on the other side of. For all intents and purposes, Miroslav was trapped and the only witnesses to the great fight on the top of the tower would be Klaudia and the dragon.

“I took a vow to this realm to protect it. That includes from you,” he replied, looking at her. He still could not believe she had done the actions she had implied. He didn’t want to believe it.

“Vows can be broken,” she replied sharply.

“You would kill your own son to have Joachim sit as ruler of this kingdom? The love of a mother for her child is supposed to be the strongest of all! You love Thomas, I have seen you with him. How could you do that to _Him_?” Miroslav asked as an idea came to him. He kept himself away from the dragon’s jaws and its watchful eyes.

“Thomas will never be a great leader. He will not be the ruler this country needs. He is too kind, too gentle. He does not have the firm hand to protect our realm. I have seen it.” Klaudia said, though her tone had grown slightly softer. “We need someone who could do just that and protect the kingdom. Joachim can.”

“I suppose you saw that in your divination readings also?” Miroslav said, watching as the sun began to lower further into the sky. It would be dark in less than four hours. Time was running out.

“What of it?” Klaudia asked as she tried to break the seal on the door that Miroslav had put up.

“The reader can skewer the reading, of course. Those are fundamentally basic prophecy skills. You are to remain unbiased when reading the leaves, or the orb. Very clearly, you are not.” Miroslav spoke, as he redoubled the effort on sealing the door. He would have no chance at all if anyone came through it.

“It doesn’t matter!” Klaudia replied loudly.

“Dragon,” she turned and faced the beast to get its attention, before she turned back to Miroslav. “Bathe him in fire.”

Miroslav swallowed hard. It was either seal the door, or protect himself against dragon fire. He could not do both, and he would likely not last against the blaze from the great serpent. It was now or never.

“My Lord,” he spoke and looked into the blue eyes of the creature that had raised its head to do its master’s bidding. “My Lord, what did she promise you all those years ago?”

The dragon did not answer. Its wings twitched as it prepared to breathe fire once again. Miroslav could see the lightening in the scales of its belly as they began to grow redder and slowly it the fire was building up the dragon’s throat.

“She promised you safety, didn’t she?” Miroslav tried again, still keeping an eye on where the dragon’s fire was in its throat. “Not for yourself, but for your wife, and your child. She promised they would be safe, didn’t she Robert?”

“Enough! Destroy him!” Klaudia ordered again. The blue eyes of the dragon grew sadder and the embers rose higher.

“Robert, listen to me. You know I have never lied to you. I know what she promised you that night; I was on my way there. Not in the way you think,” Miroslav added quickly when he saw the blue eyes go from sad to angry as they narrowed. “I was there to bring you news when I overheard your conversation with Joachim. She was there too, she was the one that bound the spell that led you to this.”

The embers slowed to a stop as they rested more than half-way up the dragon’s throat. He was listening, but Miroslav was running on borrowed time. Time that he did not have to waste.

“Robert, they told you that they could protect them, save them, didn’t they?” The dragon blinked. “I’m so sorry my friend. I’m so sorry. I wished every day since this came to pass that I had been sooner. If only to know who was responsible.” He glared at Klaudia for that before he returned to the dragon. “I was on my way to tell you that they didn’t make it. They had passed into the night. I was coming to extend my sympathies to you.”

The dragon stared at Miroslav for a long while before the embers died completely in its throat. The beast looked to Klaudia and watched the witch who controlled him.

“Is this true?” he finally asked, his words like a whisper over the top of the tower.

“Of course it isn’t. Miroslav would say anything to save himself, you know that.” Klaudia replied dismissively. The dragon turned back to Miroslav and watched the wizard again, considering how to proceed. Miroslav suspected he was trying to fight the controlling hold she had over him, but he could only speculate.

“Robert Lewandowski, Lord of Vasha, you know I would never do such a thing.” Miroslav replied honestly as he addressed the dragon by his true name, the name of the man who had been cursed to this fate. The man Miroslav had known for his entire life before he had been cursed. “And you know, as I, Klaudia, that if you made an agreement, and he bound his fate to you in exchange for the lives of his family, and you failed to uphold your end…”

The rest did not need to be said.

With a long, loud roar, the dragon pushed off the tower into the sky, large wings stretching effortlessly as it soared high into the clouds of the sky. The dragon leveled and he looked back, looked at the witch who had ensnared him on the pretense of a lie. Robert, the dragon, roared again and he arched in the air above the castle as he came back down for Klaudia. Fire burst from his mouth, and Miroslav moved against the side of the tower with the door, as far out of the way as possible, while putting up his wards at an accelerated pace, so quickly he felt his magic sting as it rushed to leave him to protect himself.

The dragon swooped down and caught Klaudia in his talons while she too had tried to protect herself from the fire. Due to the momentum of his flight and the sheer force of his rage, part of the body of the dragon crashed into the castle’s tower, causing a large chunk of the rocks to fall into the courtyard below. Momentum carried him and as the dragon fell, he kept Klaudia in his talons so that both the witch and her dragon fell into the river together, only to be quickly swept downstream and were lost from view.

Miroslav breathed heavily as he collapsed against the wall, having grown entirely too exhausted from maintaining his wards, maintaining the magic that was allowing Mats and his crew to fight down below, and from saving himself against the fire of the dragon. His body was feeling weak and he closed his eyes and slumped against the wall while those who were enchanted below began to awaken. It was over, at last, and now he could rest.


	22. The Start of a New Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Let me know what you think!

Rocks were littering the courtyard after many had fallen to the ground once the dragon had crashed over the side of the Scarlet Tower and part of the wall before falling into the river. Mats and Benedikt watched as the soldiers who had been fighting them suddenly stopped and collapsed to the ground, as though they had been obliterated by an unknown force. Mats looked to the top of the tower but he could see nothing apart from that half of it was missing.

The soldiers collapsed to the ground and all of them held their heads. Benedikt felt a pity for them, to have to wake up from a curse as powerful as the one that had to have been controlling them for so long, he could only imagine the headaches that that would cause.

Mats moved over to him and put an arm around his shoulders before he kissed Benedikt’s sweaty brow.

“You know, with some training, you could be a good swordsman one day.” Mats smiled proudly at Benedikt as he stayed close to the other man.

“I’ve decided that I like you best when you aren’t speaking.” Benedikt said, leaning closer into Mats’ body.

“Feel free to shut me up any time you like, Benny.” Mats said, holding the other man close.

“Finally, a nickname I actually like from you. May the Gods be praised.” Benedikt replied sarcastically and Mats only grinned.

“How wonderful, you two will get the chance to die together instead of alone. Who said I was not a man of mercy?” The voice of Joachim came to them from behind and they turned to see the disgraced second in command pointing his sword at both of them.

“Be still, Joachim. You have lost.” Mats and Benedikt turned to see the speaker coming at them from their right. Joachim looked over and sighed when he saw Tobias advancing on them. “Your magic is not as good as mine and if you try to hurt my friends, you will not live to regret it.”

“I have not lost! I will be king and all of you will bow to me.” Joachim replied, the beginnings of a lunatic started to sound. Tobias ensnared the man in vines, vines that closed over his mouth so he could not speak further.

“That’s better.” Tobias replied and looked at the pirate and the huntsman. He gave them a small smile before he looked to the sky sharply.

“What is it?” Mats asked due to how fast his demeanor had changed.

Tobias looked back down at them. “The Valkyrie are coming.”

\---

Like church mice, Lukas and Bastian had snuck their way into the castle. They had watched the dragon fall from outside the city and they took that moment to hurry along. They had seen the tower fall with the body of the large beast and so they decided that was the best place to look for Miroslav. Together, they climbed over the ruins of the inside of the castle, it appeared as part of the courtyard battle had occurred there. They did not stop to give their regards to Jürgen’s tomb before they scrambled up the stairs.

For a moment they paused when they saw Thomas and Manuel collapsed against the side of the staircase. Unsure as to what happened to them, Lukas nodded and pointed to the door where Bastian went up to the tower alone while Lukas stayed behind to check over the health of their friends.

Bastian was only nervous for a moment before he lowered a plank of wood over a large gap in the stairs. He crossed over on the narrow bridge before he pushed the door open. It gave effortlessly and he stepped out onto the half-ruined tower. He looked only for a moment before he saw Miroslav slumped against a wall and panic took him.

The boy moved over to where the wizard was and he took the man’s hand in his own.

“Miro?” He asked, nerves creeping into his voice when he saw how fatigued the man looked. “Miro?”

The man’s eyes opened slowly and he smiled a little when he recognized who was there. “My curious little Bastian. It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

Bastian nodded and he smiled a little, squeezing the wizard’s hand. “Lukas and I came as soon as we realized what you meant. I’m sorry we weren’t here sooner.”

Miroslav smiled slightly, eyes seemingly growing older in front of Bastian. “I meant for you to go home, as I said. Though I am glad now that you did not.”

Bastian blushed slightly for having assumed otherwise. “Would you like me to get you some water? Or perhaps you’ll be recovered enough to get back inside soon?” Bastian smiled hopefully.

“Answer me something first.” Miroslav spoke and then shifted slightly so that he was looking Bastian in the face. “What are you? I have tried to find something magical or otherworldly about you and Lukas, but I cannot. You two are the most remarkable, kind humans I have ever known and you have already found your One Love at such a young age that it is unfathomable. So I ask, what are you? What creature could possibly have such luck and pure intentions?”

Bastian shrugged and looked uncomfortable at Miroslav’s praise. “My brother is a wizard, that is all. I am not a greatly kind person as you have said and I possess no special abilities myself. I am, just as you said, human. That is all.”

Miroslav remained quiet at that and looked the boy over. He smiled slightly. “I like your answer. Then I amend my statement. You are the purest of heart that I have ever known, human or otherwise. Though, I do not think you will ever be ‘just’ human. You do your race a great service, Bastian.”

Blushing from the praise, Bastian lowered his eyes. He had not lied. There was nothing special about him at all, only that he was a human who loved his best friend more than most things and enjoyed the quiet of the country, and who also liked a good adventure or adventure story every now and again. He wasn’t anything more special than a boy who loved life and youth at heart.

“Bastian…” Lukas voice carried across the open space and Bastian looked over his shoulder to see Lukas supporting Thomas at the door. Lukas’ face was set and Bastian didn’t like it. Still, he turned and faced Miroslav with a smile and promised he’d be right back. The boy went over to help Lukas with Thomas. “Let them speak for a moment, they have much to say.”

Bastian nodded and stepped back after he helped Thomas to sit next to Miroslav on the wall. Then they retreated into the small privacy of just inside the staircase.

“Miro?” Thomas started quietly, eyes downcast. He still felt so weak. “I’m so sorry. My shame will never recover from this.”

Miroslav watched the boy and shifted so that his hand covered Thomas’ own.

“It is all right. You could not have predicted the events as they happened. I confess, I did not think your mother was the culprit. I thought it had been Joachim. I was wrong. It is I who am sorry.” Miroslav spoke, his words slow in coming but they maintained the strength of his meaning though his voice was soft.

“My mother.” Thomas replied numbly as he shook his head. “My shame grows.”

“Don’t let it. You will be a great king one day and no one will remember this cloud that overlooked the rise of your kingdom.” Miroslav squeezed Thomas’ hand gently as he reclined against the wall. He looked to the sky as a host of winged beauties began to near the capital. He half-smiled as his eyes closed again.

Thomas looked over as Miroslav had gone quiet for several moments and then he frowned. Miroslav was paler than usual, and he was not his normal cheerful self, though he still had tried to impart wisdom. Thomas felt his heart lurch in his throat.

“You’re going to get better and see me be that great king, aren’t you?” Thomas whispered. “Oh please get better, Miroslav. I have to tell you something.”

Miro opened his eyes barely then and looked at Thomas. “So tell me then.”

Thomas swallowed hard. He should have said it earlier. He should have told him when he had the chance. There had been so many. When he was just a young man learning about life, when he and Miro would sit on this very tower and watch the stars, when Miroslav had tried to teach him how to read the future in tea leaves. There were many chances that he could’ve just confessed, when the Valkyrie had told him about One Love’s he should have done it then. He was certain, more certain than ever, that Miroslav was it for him.

But he had been afraid then. What if Thomas wasn’t the one for him? What if there had been someone else or was going to be someone else for Miroslav and that person wasn’t Thomas? Still, with the look on Miro’s face, there wasn’t going to be much time to say it. Thomas swallowed hard and he spoke in a whisper.

“I love you.”

He finally spoke the words, earning a twinkle in Miroslav’s eye.

“I know.” Miroslav smiled slightly. “As I love you, _my heart_.”

The words spoken in Elvish sealed the connection between them, for it was true they were each other’s One. Thomas leaned forward and kissed the wizard lightly on the lips.

“Then get better for me.” He murmured against them and stayed close. Tears were forming in his eyes. “I need you here.”

Miroslav smiled, sadly and his eyes grew clouded over with unshed tears. “I have known this day would come. Skuld told me the day we spoke in the desert that my time was running low. I regret to leave you, because I do love you as much as you love me.”

Thomas shook his head, tears running down his cheeks. “You can’t. If you love me as you say, you’ll stay. Please!” Thomas begged and Miro’s thumb brushed along his hand.

“One day, many days from now, I will see you again.” Miroslav smiled slightly at that. “I take this comfort with me as I go.”

Thomas leaned forward then and hugged him closely. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want this to be the end. It was too soon. He had just finally spoken up; he had found the person he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. How could he lose him now?

“Thomas.”

A voice that he recognized but still put dread in him as he heard it came from behind. He turned over his shoulder and saw Göndul standing on top of the tower. She looked sad for him, but her gaze turned to Miroslav and then returned it to him.

“It is time.”

Thomas shook his head as he clung to Miroslav’s stilled body.

“No. Just please, let me have him a while longer. Please, please, _please_ ,” He begged, voice fading out as the tears running unmarked down his cheeks. He didn’t care that he was pleading with fate, that he would be prepared to make any sacrifice needed if only Miroslav could remain with him for a while longer.

Göndul moved slowly over to him and she lightly touched his shoulder. Her golden light brought some warmth to him, but it was no comfort as he watched her take Miroslav’s hand and pull the wizard’s aura from his body. Blinding light led Thomas to shield his eyes and look away.

By the time it had faded, Göndul had gone along with Miro’s aura and all that was left was Thomas alone on top of the tower with the body of the great Wizard.

\---

The funeral for the fallen from the battle of Ansieál was held across the river in Carda where they had always buried their dead. Fortunately, not many soldiers had perished in the battle, though there had been some. But the truly great funeral was held in the castle and it drew many spectators from all across the realms. Even the elvenkind had arrived to pay their respects.

The road leading from the city gate all the way to the entry hall of the castle was lined with people, elves, and both in between as they watched the carriage slowly draw the coffin containing Miroslav’s body down the street. No hats were donned, and many threw roses in front of the horse as it passed by. No one spoke, but many shed tears.

It was the end of an Age, the end of the Age of Peace.

As they stood on the steps leading into the castle, the members of the company watched as Miroslav drew nearer to them for the final time. Thomas had ordered he be buried in the Hall of the Kings, where all other kings or royal family members were buried. It was a great honor, but no one really suspected less.

Thomas had told no one of the events on the top of the Scarlet Tower, and he wasn’t going to. Bastian and Lukas had heard nothing, seen nothing except for the blinding light and then Thomas was slouched over the body of their friend.

“What do you think the new age will be called?” Marco asked quietly. He was standing next to Mario and Manuel, whose face was grim with sadness. He had not forgive himself for not being stronger to fight the influence of Joachim and Klaudia. He felt responsible for Miroslav’s death, though no one else had blamed him for it.

“It is too early to tell.” Mario whispered in reply and the coffin drew closer. 

The entire company served as a pallbearer as they carried the coffin into the castle and towards where Thomas was waiting in the hall of his forebears.

The perhaps only scandalous arrival to the funeral was that of the Lord of Vasha, Robert, who had disappeared for many years, only to arrive looking quite out of sorts and guilty for some reason. Tobias had welcomed him, telling Thomas that Robert was needed to be welcome in their court and then had told him why later on. Thomas had greeted him as if he had simply been in the country a while instead of the truth of it. Robert had been grateful for Thomas’ kindness, though he had felt unworthy. Thomas had promised that they would discuss it at a later time.

The entry hall was full as the crowd moved into the castle to see the final funeral of the battle.

The ceremony continued as the priest began to say a few words. All was going well until a gasp rippled through the crowd, starting at the back and moving forward. Thomas frowned and looked over as the crowd began to part.

“I’ll be damned.” Mats said when he also saw what had caused the disturbance. He nudged Bastian who was sat right next to him and everyone soon was looking.

Having arrived, albeit late, was a very short, very well-dressed creature who brought a wonderful crown made of the finest jewels anyone had ever seen. He bowed slightly and presented the gift to Thomas, uncaring that he had interrupted the service.

“Who are you?” Thomas asked, though he took the crown in his hands and looked at the fine craftsmanship. He had never seen better before, never.

“My name is Philipp, my lord. And I wish to extend the regrets of my people to you for the loss of so fine a fellow.” Philipp looked over then to the casket of Miroslav and then back to Thomas. “My regards, sire. I wish our kingdom’s to be friends.”

“You are a king?” Lukas asked from behind Thomas’ shoulder. The excitement was building in him.

Philipp nodded slightly and revealed his belt to be made of solid gold links. “The king of the Dwarves of the Northern Mountains. Though my title matters not on this solemn day. My regrets, again, and also for having interrupted.”

Thomas nodded and accepted his gift, before he allowed the dwarf to sit next to him and indicated the priest to finish the service.

Bastian couldn’t believe his eyes. None of them could. A dwarf from the mountains was here! He shook his head as he looked at the tomb in front of him. He almost laughed. How very much like Miroslav to have someone bring something so wonderful as a wealth of new stories to something so sad as a funeral. He almost laughed, but he didn’t. The sadness was too heavy in his heart, though he did feel lighter. Miroslav was still giving him an adventure, even though he was gone.

He rested his head on Lukas’ shoulder and listened to the rest of the service. Truth be told, he was tired of hearing about the sadness and trials of life. Instead, all he was looking forward to was returning home and making a new home for Lukas and himself in the fields near the Brundagir. Peaceful, country life would suit him just fine. He thought that Miro would have said the same and not blamed him a bit for a quiet peace of the country. He was also very certain that Miroslav would encourage him and Lukas to get up to as much mischief and adventure as they could handle.

Silently, Bastian promised the wizard that he would do just that.


End file.
